


It Could Get Ugly (But It Was Beautiful)

by Jairo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Lawyer!Niall, M/M, Model!Zayn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-03 19:00:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 117,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4111603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jairo/pseuds/Jairo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(REPOST from 2013)</p><p>Back before Zayn became <em>Zayn</em>, he and Niall were together and happy. And they’d thought that Zayn’s dreams coming true would only make things better. But it didn’t work out that way and now the two of them are basically strangers.</p><p>Except strangers don’t hate eachother as much as Niall does Zayn, so maybe not. And because Niall has made this animosity very well known, he can’t for the life of him understand Zayn’s latest ploy that forces them to have contact again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Basically a couple of people asked me to repost my fics on ao3 so here goes. i don't know how long it will take lol (lazy is my middle name) but they are all on tumblr for the time-being.

 

 

_Every single fucking day_. Niall had to look at that giant looming billboard every single day. But even if it wasn’t there, it wouldn’t have made much of a difference because  _he_  was everywhere now. In the middle of Niall eating some crap microwave meal,  _his_  face would suddenly flash on the TV and Niall would scramble for the remote to change the channel but it would be too late anyway. Or during the rare times Niall had a few moments to spare and was flipping through one of the many magazines they’d subscribed to just before everything got crazy, there he’d be on some page or other, unmissable and beautiful and familiar.

But that billboard irked Niall the most. He couldn’t hide from it, couldn’t close it like a magazine or turn it off like the TV. For the past month, every morning as he drove to work he’d had no choice but to look at it. And the higher powers that be  _had_  to be having a laugh because the towering advertisement was placed right next to the exact junction where traffic always seemed to grind to a halt for a few minutes. And for those few minutes, no matter how hard he tried to focus on checking his emails on his phone or fiddling with the radio station dial, his eyes were always drawn back to him.

Unwillingly, but unable to stop, he would glare up at the same smouldering facial expression they used to laughingly practice together in front of the bathroom mirror. He would stare at that lithe body he knew better than anybody, better than any photographers, any agents. He’d spent long hours and long days getting to know it. He knew what made it tremble beneath him in drawn-out ecstasy, what brought it to its limit and made the skin covering it burn hot and become glossy with sweat.

Seriously, he would pay good money to get that billboard taken down if he could. Or at the very least, get it moved to somewhere that wasn’t along his only route to work. Looking at it brought back too many memories he’d worked damn hard to forget. For the past year, he’d worked at making himself forget. Or at least making himself not think about it anymore.

Averting his eyes back downwards, he honked his horn impatiently when the driver in front of him failed to immediately get moving even though traffic had let up and moved forward. He felt more than a little ashamed upon noticing that the driver was a little old lady who appeared startled by the sudden noise, and he wondered since when was he the type that honked horns and yelled and cursed on the road. Since that damn billboard was put up, that’s when.

Ten minutes later, he was pulling into the parking lot of the modern high-rise building that served as the office space for Hewlett Sandsman and Pringle Associates. Just over seven months ago, fresh from passing his bar exam, Niall had been hired as a junior associate at the firm. HSPA was one of the most prestigious law firms operating in the Jersey area, and Niall had worked his ass off to get in. And he’d done it without the help of his parents, grandparents or any of their fancy connections; he’d been determined to prove himself on his own.

He was still busting his chops with the goal of making partner within the next 5 years, even though this feat was almost unheard of. Every weekday he arrived early and was one of the last to leave. Which was funny because in college he’d been revered by his friends as somewhat of a party  _king_. But things had changed since then. For many reasons, partying and drinking just didn’t hold the same appeal as in his younger days. These days even on weekends, you might find Niall in the office reading up on old cases or responding to emails. Texting excuses to friends about why he couldn’t go to some club or bar with them.

“Niall! Yo! Wait up…” At the sound of Louis Tomlinson’s voice bellowing from the far side of the parking lot, Niall turned from where he’d just been about to step inside the revolving door of the building. He waited for Louis to catch up before they walked in together.

Louis was his closest friend at the firm, also a junior associate but with about a year’s more experience than Niall. They’d only been friends for a few months but Niall already knew that Louis was on his way to being one of the brightest minds the profession had ever seen. He was unpredictable, a spitfire, yes. But he was also highly intelligent, had the ability to think on his feet and could tear you to incoherent shreds with a few simple words. Luckily Niall had never been on the receiving end of one of Louis’ rants but he’d witnessed more than enough.

One incident in particular still made Niall laugh whenever he thought about it- a month ago the two of them had gone to an upmarket deli for lunch with Louis’ boyfriend who lived in the area (now ex-boyfriend for reasons unrelated to this incident). Their snooty waitress, an older woman with the demeanour of someone who hated life, had practically sneered when she saw Louis give his boyfriend a quick peck on the cheek, and had definitely glowered and turned an indignant shade of red when Louis called Alex “baby”.

What followed were a few well timed remarks from Louis, including a  _casual_  comment about bitter women who were left by their husbands in favour of their gay lovers, and an even more  _casual_  quip regarding cases he knew of where restaurants had been sued on the basis of discrimination and left in monetary tatters. By the end of it she was practically simpering in her attempts to appease him, even though it looked like it was killing her to do it. Niall hadn’t been able to hold back a snort when she offered Louis a complimentary glass of the best wine in the cellar.

Now, the two associates made their way into their office building, into the elevator and towards their desks on one of the higher floors in the high-rise. As junior members of the firm, they didn’t have their own offices but the placement of their desks next to each other suited them just fine. They sat near four other junior associates, while the desks of other juniors as well the offices of senior associates were spread out in other areas of the lush space spanning the large firm.

Niall had barely switched his laptop on when an email sped into his inbox. It was from Candice Hewlett, who was one of the paralegals and a daughter of one of the senior partners. Apparently this partner hadn’t come into the office yet this morning but had sent along a message that he wanted to meet with Niall in an hours’ time. Niall sent a response letting Candice know that he’d received the message.

She was Niall’s other good friend in the office besides Louis. She and Niall were a lot alike, coming from somewhat privileged backgrounds but both working hard to show that they were more than their family name. Candice didn’t even need to work but she chose to, although her father had tried to dissuade her from it. His blunt reasoning had been that with her debutante good looks and familial connections, she should rather be concentrating on meeting a nice young man with high political or business aspirations.

During a tipsy moment at a get-together at Louis’ flat one night, Candice confided in Niall that her father had even said that he couldn’t understand why she insisted on working because it wasn’t like she was overly bright. Not like her brother. Ouch. Niall didn’t think she wanted this detail to be known by anyone else so he made sure to never mention it.

“Mr Hewlett wants to see me,” Niall informed Louis who was unwrapping his morning Snickers bar (an everyday ritual).

“Ooh. The big man himself. What’d you do, Horan? Didn’t bungle up some key clause during negotiations for that football player, did you?” Louis actually looked a bit concerned, which only served to make Niall a little worried too. Even though he trusted himself implicitly when it came to his job.

One of the components of Hewlett Sandsman and Pringle dealt with entertainment law, and the firm had a few sports stars and actors on their bill. Last week Niall had been working with a senior associate on negotiating a new football contract for the star quarterback of the New York Jets. This was the first high profile client Niall had been allowed to deal with directly. Before that he’d mostly worked on background research for criminal cases.

 The contract finalisation for the football player had gone off without a hitch. He was sure of it. Almost completely sure.

“Your confidence in my abilities is heart-warming, Lou. No, I didn’t mess anything up. At least I don’t think so…” Niall snatched the Snickers bar out his hand and broke off half before handing it back (another morning ritual).

Louis shrugged and his words were mangled as he chewed, “I do trust your abilities, dumbass. But it’s not every day the most senior of senior partners wants to meet with you, and just you.”

Yep, Louis was right about that. But Niall wasn’t about to overthink this or fret about it. He had never been the type to worry too much about things he had no control over, so he merely waited for the hour to pass and then began his journey to the lavish office that he one day hoped to be the occupant of. He heard Louis’ half-serious comment just before he rounded the corner, “Whatever happens, don’t cry dude. And if possible- whatever he throws at you, deny deny deny!”

Upon arrival at his destination he knocked on the door and waited for the gravelly “Come in” before turning the handle and walking in.

“Niall, thank you for coming. Sit down.” Mr Hewlett sat behind his desk as he spoke and looked at Niall with a piercing gaze that was somewhat of a signature trait of his. And for the hundredth time since joining the firm, Niall thought to himself how much the man just _looked_  like a lawyer. Like, if the man were an actor, he would be cast as a lawyer. Or as the President, maybe. He was tall and strongly lean, blandly attractive with a full head of silver hair and he exuded unwavering grim confidence.

Niall did as he was told and sat down opposite Mr Hewlett. Now that he was actually in the older man’s office, he was nervous. What was all this about?

Mr Hewlett regarded him seriously. “I’m a very busy man. And I would hope you are too, otherwise I’m not sure what we’d be paying you for. So let me get straight to the point and then we can both get back to work.”

Niall had to stop himself from gulping.

“I had an early meeting this morning with the owner of a modelling agency in New York, Lola Martinez. She owns Portfolio Inc, you might have heard of it- it’s the second biggest agency in New York City. Which if you know the number of modelling agencies in New York City, is no small matter. She represents some of the biggest wealthiest models in the world.”

Niall knew that agency, alright. But it couldn’t be anything to do with…

Mr Hewlett was still talking so Niall forced himself to concentrate on his words. “Apparently the contract of her top male model expires soon and the only stipulation he made for it being renewed was that Portfolio Inc switch to  _this_  firm for legal representation. And even more bizarrely, he won’t re-sign with them unless a particular Niall Horan is named as the attorney he deals with directly on all legal matters.”

_No no no_. Niall thought he might actually throw up. It couldn’t be.

“Apparently the young man says you two go way back. Says you used to be good friends,”Mr Hewlett continued, quirking an eyebrow. “Lola agreed to his request and is willing to bring her business to us. I told her that I didn’t see why you would have any problem with any of this. It hasn’t escaped my attention that you’re bright and ambitious, Niall. This will be another opportunity for you to learn and develop yourself. Not many junior associates would be entrusted with handling a client as important as this. And this is a huge coup for our firm. We not only get him, but we’ll represent the interests of the entire agency.”

_No no no_. But Niall needed to actually say something and not look like a suddenly-mute idiot so he forced himself to stutter out, “Thank you, sir… I- I’m looking forward to working with them.”

Mr Hewlett’s next words confirmed what Niall already knew at this point. “Good. I’m sure Lola and Zayn will be pleased to hear that.”

He walked out of Mr Hewlett’s office after he was effectively dismissed by the older man turning his attention to his computer screen. Blearily he walked back to his desk and the look on his face must have been awful because Louis ended the call he was in the middle of and demanded, “Niall? Niall! Look at me- what’s wrong? Did you get fired or something?”

Niall shook his head and promptly lost himself in his thoughts, tuning out whatever else Louis said after that. He could only really process one thing right then, or rather one name. Zayn Malik. Although to the rest of the world he was now known as just Zayn. He had done that well in the modeling world.

Niall had deliberately forced himself to delete that name - last name or no last name - from his thoughts, his dreams, his life. He’d been hurt enough by him to last a lifetime. The constant barrage of billboards and commercials and print campaigns and TV guest appearances had made getting over him hard enough, but with time and determination (over a year of it) Niall had moved on with his life. But now this??

That  _fucking_  bastard. 


	2. In the beginning

They came really close to not meeting at all. And after everything ended in an explosive ugly showdown, most of the time he wished that he’d never met him - but other times he’d remember how good it had been. Between them in the beginning. For a long time actually, not just in the beginning.

The night he first saw Zayn, Niall hadn’t even been planning on attending the Horan bi-annual charity banquet. In fact he’d done his utmost to get out of it. That year the goal of the banquets had been to raise enough money to provide clean water to three villages in east Kenya; and the year before that, to raise awareness over the plight of girls’ education in Pakistan; and the year before that childhood lymphoma.

His parents meant well, actually- unlike a lot of the other men and women who ran in the same high society circles, Maura and Bobby Horan didn’t hold charity events merely as an opportunity for them to show off and be able to say that they were “humanitarians” and “activists”. They genuinely wanted to help, and Niall admired that and wanted to help too. He just didn’t want to have to schmooze and fake-smile at pompous people all night. At 21 years of age and well into his 3rd year of college, he felt he was more than old enough to not be forced into attending tedious dinners and country club events with his family.

So he wasn’t going to go this banquet. He’d already made plans with Darragh and Sean to go to a house party of someone who knew someone. The party promised to be a complete shitshow, exactly how they liked it. All he wanted to do that night was have fun with his friends, maybe score someone to take home at the end of it.

But then… He maybe kinda sort of crashed one of his Dad’s cars the night before the banquet. _Honest_ mistake because he’d actually been completely sober. And even though he wasn’t injured and the car wasn’t totalled and he apologised profusely, his mother still used this as leverage for why he shouldn’t be going to some wild party just yet. She coaxed and wheedled, appealing to him to rather spend the night doing something worthwhile “with his community”. He was really quite terrible at saying no to his mother. So in the end, he resigned himself to a long night of watching people attempt to outdo and outdress and outspend each other.

And that was how he found himself dressed in an impeccable navy suit, his blonde hair neatly styled instead of merely flopping untidily over his forehead like usual. He was seated at a table near the front of the long banquet hall and he was trying not to look like he wanted to kill himself. The table his mother relegated him to was filled with people his own age, no doubt also dragged there by their own parents. He’d known some of them since childhood but even still, they weren’t able to move past superficial chitchat and awkward silences as they daintily ate their way through the starter and main course.

He was sure they were nice enough people, but they just weren’t _his_ kind of people. He got along with most types, but he preferred the type that didn’t worry so much about saying the right thing and being seen to be doing the right thing all the time. But he couldn’t even really blame these near-strangers he’d known since they were all kids; he knew very well the immense pressure that was placed on them.

On the plus side, occasions like this were always well stocked with wine and champagne, and although these definitely weren’t his first preference when it came to alcoholic beverages, he was one who knew how to roll with the punches. He more than helped himself to the booze and was pleased to note that the evening became increasingly bearable, so much so that he abandoned his table and went to go sit at the old people’s table, which was _much_ more entertaining. He supposed that with old age came a certain fuckit attitude - when you’d lived that long and seen it all, you really didn’t give a rats' ass what other people thought of you.

The caterers had supplied their own group of waiters for the event, male and female, all dressed simply in black pants and white button-up shirts. Niall noticed that one waiter in particular kept looking towards their table and then quickly looking away, a lot. Niall didn’t really know why the guy kept glancing at them but in his tipsy state, he and the old lady seated next to him (the purple haired and utterly delightful Mrs Ogilvy) made a game of trying to see how many times they could catch the waiter looking their way.

“He is a handsome one though, dear,“ Mrs Ogilvy remarked wistfully after some time. She fingered the strings of pearls around her neck and gazed rather dreamily in the waiter’s direction.

He really was cute. Very cute. Which was why Niall was enjoying this game so much.

“You should go for it, Mrs O! What’re you waiting for,” he teased, laughing at the way she hesitated for a second like she was really considering it.

She swatted at him with one hand and burst into high-pitched giggles. “Oh, you silly boy! I wish. But he’s not looking at me, now is he. He can’t take his eyes off of _you_. That poor dear is about to drop his tray any second!”

Maybe in a more sober state, Niall wouldn’t have been so dense and he would have been able to see all that for himself without being told. But now he turned with interest to the waiter standing two tables away. Well, even more interest than before, that is. And yep, he caught him again. The guy was supposedly offering a selection of palate cleansers to the table he was serving, but really his eyes were on Niall. And in a manner that Niall found more than a little funny, he hastily looked back down as soon as the blonde gazed back.

Niall took this time to really look at him. And he had to admit the guy was not cute like he’d initially thought. He was out of this world fucking gorgeous. What with his tan-coloured skin that looked like it might be amazing to touch, glossy black hair swept up into an elaborate quiff, long graceful limbs. And his _face_ was, just…well. The smile on Niall’s face grew big as he realised that this night had the potential to become very pleasing indeed. Maybe, just maybe, a good screw wasn’t out of the question tonight like he’d thought.

Niall was going to operate on the assumption (hope?) that the guy was gay…otherwise why had he been staring at Niall all night… The blonde had a hunch that the beautiful Adonis (yes, he called the waiter this in his head) was probably not going to make the first move, he definitely seemed like the reserved type. But Niall didn’t mind in the least because he liked making the first move. Always had. Thrill of the chase or whatever.

“So…” he turned back to Mrs Ogilvy and grinned at her, “How should I go about this?”

“Well, you find him when he has a moment alone, of course. Tell him that he’s caught your fancy. Ask him if he’d like to accompany you to the cinema or perhaps for a nice meal, dear.” She got a dopey faraway look on her face, perhaps thinking of something or someone from long ago.

Niall fought the urge to laugh. The only part of her advice he liked was the finding the Adonis alone part. But he smiled and told her, “Okay, Mrs O. I’ll do just that.”

The next time he caught the waiter looking at him, he made sure to smile at him in a way he’d been told by many was impossible to resist. For a second Niall received a look of surprise in return, before a slow smile made its way onto the Adonis’ face. That sexy almost-reluctant smile was a nice sight, really nice and Niall couldn’t stop himself from grinning even wider. And he was glad that he didn’t stop himself because a moment later he was rewarded with an even sexier smile, but this time without a trace of wariness or suspicion in it.

_Yes. I’m in._

But he had to wait another entire hour before his Adonis finally took a break from serving and slipped outside through one of the side doors. Niall promptly stood up from the table and winked at Mrs O, who clapped delightedly in encouragement as Niall made his way towards that side door.

The question of how he should go about this still remained. From Niall’s experience, there were two possible methods and you could never be too sure which one would work- the blunt _I think you’re hot and I think we should get in each other’s pants tonight_ technique, or for the guys who wanted to be wooed a little he usually went for something like _I’ve been watching you all night. Couldn’t help it, you’re really cute. It’s a bit distracting actually… Can I be honest? I’m dying to kiss you right now._

But actually, in the end he made use of neither method. What he ended up doing was probably something he’d never done before. When Niall stepped outside, he found the guy standing not far from the side door, leaning against the wall with one long leg propped behind him as he brought a cigarette to his lips, then inhaled, exhaled. And Niall usually didn’t care much for smokers but on this guy it was unreal how hot it was.

When he eventually turned his head and noticed Niall watching him, his fingers fumbled and he almost dropped his cig. Niall was the kind of person who trusted his instincts and right now instinct was telling him that this guy wouldn’t really appreciate any smooth lines Niall threw his way. So with a burst of courage that probably had a lot to do with the alcohol he’d consumed, he came to stand directly in front of him. Nearly swooned when he saw the amber eyes and long dark lashes up close. Pressed a gentle hand on the guy’s chest. Ignored the look of slight alarm on the other’s face. Leaned in. And kissed him. Just a brief gentle meeting of the lips.

The guy made a soft noise of surprise but then stilled for a second before his entire body seemed to relax. And then he was kissing Niall back. And fuck, he was such a good kisser Niall almost moaned a little against the soft plump lips. He tasted a bit like the cigarette he’d been having but mostly like cinnamon and something sweet.

After what seemed like an eternity, the guy drew back and said with that sexy gradual smile from earlier, “So, you know I have to ask- do you make a habit of kissing men you’ve never met without so much as a hello first?”

Niall laughed and considered lying or trying for something witty to say but instead settled on the truth. “No. I don’t.”

The guy brought their lips back together again, not really bothering to break away when he murmured, “I’m Zayn by the way.”

“Niall.” This was mostly muffled as the kiss deepened without warning, Zayn’s tongue slipping into his mouth. And neither of them seemed to have a problem with the fact that they were _strangers_ , pressed up on each other, making out heatedly against the wall like horny teenagers. Lips and tongues moving, hands fisted in hair and the backs of suit jackets. Their bodies just fit together in a way that felt way too right this soon in the game and Niall couldn’t wait to feel him when there were no clothes acting as a barrier.

It was too good to last, of course. It was maybe 5 or 10 minutes later when they were interrupted by a loud blatant cough. They quickly pulled apart and turned in the direction of the sound, rather guiltily. A brunette waitress was peeking her head out of the side door, grinning at them.

“Rachel. Shit, sorry.” Zayn laughed as he addressed her. Niall wondered why he was apologising but he understood when Rachel responded.

“Yeah, Malik. Your break was over 5 minutes ago. You gotta go back in, it’s my turn now.” She stepped outside fully and eyed them expectantly, still looking like she was seconds from bursting into giggles.

Zayn turned to Niall and said, sounding a little hesitant, “I need to go finish my shift…But maybe I - Would you mind, like-” He seemed unsure of how to continue and Niall thought he understood what Zayn wanted. The blonde nodded and said, “I’ll wait for you. Come find me when you’re done.”

As they brushed past Rachel, she put a hand on Niall’s shoulder and laughingly asked him, “Do you have a brother here, or a cousin? Preferably one who looks like you. A young uncle maybe? It’s just that I wouldn’t mind spending my break the same way Zayn did.”

Zayn shook his head and reached over to twist her nose, making her squeal. Niall grinned at the two of them and said, “Sorry. Older brother but he lives in Houston unfortunately.”

The two young men made their way back inside the banquet hall, Zayn to resume his duties and Niall back to his table where he planned on telling Mrs O a modified version of events that included Zayn agreeing to accompany him for a nice meal.

…………………………….

Like he’d promised, Niall waited for Zayn and his co-workers to clear up and pack away dishes, long after all the guests had left. Niall had purposefully avoided his parents at the end of the evening, not really looking to explain why on earth he was staying behind. Luckily he’d come in his own car, so Mr and Mrs Horan left without having to worry about him.

Niall waited for Zayn on a bench outside because he didn’t want to get in anybody’s way inside.

Finally things wound down, and the catering staff began spilling out of the banquet hall carrying handbags and putting on coats. At this point it was late in the evening, almost midnight. Niall waved back at Rachel as she and some others passed his bench on their way to the car taking them home. Zayn walked out not long after, a bulky camouflage jacket in his hands. He smiled when he spotted Niall, walked over and plopped down next to the blonde saying, “Thanks for waiting.”

“No problem.” And Niall really meant it.

There was a long pause. Then, “So….”

And in response, “So…”

There was another pause and then they laughed sheepishly because neither of them really knew what to say or do next.

But Niall had an idea. He turned to Zayn and asked, “Have you eaten?” He himself had only picked at the fancy shmancy food all night, preferring to concentrate more on the alcohol side of things.

“Um…Not really, no. Didn’t have time for more than a small bite here and there. Why?”

Niall couldn’t stop _smiling_ at him. “There’s a diner not far from here, it’s open all night. I could really do with their grub right now. The best burger you will ever taste, I swear, man. Come with me?”

Zayn nodded. “Sure. That sounds good. Just let me text my friend Harry. He’ll be expecting me home soon.”

Niall wondered fleetingly whether this Harry roommate dude was really just a friend, and then reminded himself that he shouldn’t care either way- he’d only just met Zayn a few hours ago. As they stood up from the bench, he remembered something and groaned. “Shit, I can’t drive. I had a bit to drink tonight.”

Zayn snorted. “I noticed. You looked like you were having a really good time. It was cute.”

 _No, what’s cute is you._ But out loud Niall said, “Well do you mind driving?”

Zayn face changed and he looked…embarrassed? He kind of glanced to the side before mumbling, “Uh. I can’t… I don’t know how to drive, I mean.”

Niall was surprised. He genuinely didn’t know anybody their age who couldn’t drive. But there was really no need for Zayn to be embarrassed. Niall didn’t exactly plan to say what he said next. “I’ll teach you one day.”

In the end, Niall left his car there in the parking area behind the banquet hall where it would be perfectly safe for the night. Then they took a cab to the diner, and once there Zayn agreed with his mouth full that this really was the best burger ever. Conversation flowed easily, mostly courtesy of Niall, and they laughed a lot. When Zayn said he liked Niall’s laugh and then added softly almost as an afterthought that he had really beautiful striking eyes, the blonde found himself trying to hide a blush he felt way too old for. (In the future, when Niall thinks about this night he can’t help but laugh because even though his initial plan had been to just get laid and even though he’d scoffed at Mrs Ogilvy’s advice, he ended up doing exactly what she’d suggested: he’d gotten to Zayn accompany him for a nice meal.)

They called for another cab when they were full and sleepy and satisfied. Niall already had his wallet out to pay the diner bill but Zayn insisted on taking care of it so Niall didn’t argue much. The cab dropped Zayn off at his apartment first where the two of them exchanged numbers and one more kiss outside the building door. Ok maybe it was two, three more kisses before Niall got back into the cab. It would appear they weren’t going to be having sex of any kind that night, but Niall wasn’t deterred. He could wait. And he had another one of his hunches that when it did happen, any wait would have been worth it.


	3. Chapter 3

After his boss’s extremely unwelcome announcement the day before that Niall would soon be working closely with Zayn, Niall’s morning drive into work included not only glaring at that _stupid_ billboard but also nearly having to physically restrain himself from throwing his flask of coffee up at it. The only thing that did stop him was the fact that he wouldn’t be able to throw it high enough to reach its intended target and that would just be a waste of carefully brewed coffee.

In the office, Louis arrived a little later than the blonde and picked up on his simmering temper immediately, exclaiming as he sat down at his desk, “Whoah…Bud! Still in the same stellar mood you were in yesterday, I see. Even worse, if I’m not mistaken.”

Louis was not mistaken. And Niall couldn’t even deny it. After his meeting with Mr Hewlett, he’d definitely been pissed off but mostly just stunned and half in disbelief. But after an entire night of having to think about Zayn - really think about him, for the first time in months- Niall’s mood had darkened and dipped to levels he hadn’t experienced since, well, since back when it all started to fall apart. It took a lot to make Niall truly angry but thinking about Zayn was the one fail-proof way to get it done.

For some reason, remnants of the night he’d first met Zayn ran through Niall’s mind the entire day after his meeting with his boss and especially at night as he lay in his bed trying to get some sleep. And that had only gotten him more and more furious as the hours ticked by. It had forced him to remember that there was a time when things weren’t always this messed up. That there was a time when hearing Zayn’s name or seeing his face didn’t immediately make Niall want to throw something.

“So are you finally going to tell me what’s up or do I have to beat it out of you?” Louis bit into his Snickers bar after he spoke, raising an eyebrow when Niall didn’t try to break off a piece. He halved the bar himself and handed some to the blonde before he continued, “I gave you space yesterday. But today we’re not getting up from these desks until you tell me what the hell Hewlett said to you that’s got you like this.”

“Like what?” _Stall, Niall. Stall._

“Like you’re going to kill the first person who looks at you wrong. Like you want to throw your laptop at my head right now.”

Niall sighed and avoided Louis’ gaze, choosing to rather stare at his work phone, praying for it to ring so that he could stall some more. But alas, no such luck. No calls. Nobody came to his desk to rush him away with some urgent matter to attend to.

Finally he muttered, “It’s to do with my ex. Things didn’t end…amicably, between us. We haven’t spoken in months. But yesterday he sort of backed me into a corner… Uh, him and his boss worked out some deal with Mr Hewlett and apparently I’m his attorney now.”

Louis looked appropriately confused. “Why would he go to Mr Hewlett? And why would Hewlett entertain him? Correct me if I’m wrong but Hewlett doesn’t normally concern himself with the love squabbles of his subordinates and their ex-boyfriends.”

Niall looked at his friend for a moment before admitting, “My ex…um, he’s kind of famous. And he’s bringing a whole modelling agency to this firm, pretty much one of the biggest ones out there in NYC. That’s why Hewlett found time to give a shit.”

“Famous? Why is this the first time I’m hearing about this ex?” Louis looked very intrigued now. “You sly dog. How long were you together? Who is he?”

“Zayn… His name’s Zayn.” When was the last time that name had left Niall’s lips?

“Zayn. Sounds kinda familiar. Maybe? But can’t say it brings anything concrete to mind. He’s a model? Show me a picture.” Louis was already edging away from his desk, preparing to scoot his chair over to Niall’s work station.

Niall turned to him in disbelief. “What makes you think I have one?? I think I’ve more than hinted that my ex and I are not exactly the best of friends so why on earth would I carry a picture of him?!”

Louis whistled and slid his chair back in place, holding his hands up in a gesture of truce. “Don’t bite my head off. Whoah, he must’ve burned you _bad_. Look how worked up you’re getting. And you didn’t answer my question- how long were you together?”

“Dunno, “Niall replied sullenly even though he knew very well. “A few years I guess.”

Louis looked stunned by this revelation. “What! What the actual hell, Horan. You dated someone for years, broke up with them just some months ago from what I understand, haven’t dated anyone else since or at least not in the time I’ve known you… And yet, you’ve never even _mentioned_ this Zayn guy before. I thought we were friends, Niall.” Louis said this in a pretty neutral tone but Niall knew him well enough to know that his friend was actually quite hurt.

“We _are_ friends. It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you. It’s just one of those things that’s really hard to explain.”

Niall’s work phone rang shrilly just then and he rolled his eyes at it before reaching across his desk to pick it up, thinking: _where were you 2 minutes ago when I wanted you to ring._

“Niall Horan speaking.”

A beat of silence. Then a smooth composed voice that raised the hairs on the blonde’s head, “Good morning, Niall.”

The universe was obviously playing some twisted sick joke.

Trying to still his racing heart, he managed to snap, “Where did you get this number from, Zayn? Is this all some big game to you?”

“Well. To answer your first question, I got it from Lola who got it from your boss. Some stuffy old guy. As for your second question, the answer is no.”

Niall couldn’t quite believe that Zayn was so calm and unmoved. Like nothing had ever happened, like they were merely old friends catching up.

_“Why?”_

“Why what? Why did I get your number? Because I thought I should have the number of my lawyer on hand, of course.”

That unruffled tone was only serving to make Niall’s blood boil and threaten to spill over. He took a deep breath before replying. “No, why are you doing this? There are literally thousands of lawyers you could choose from. Why did you insist on me?”

“Because - because I trust you.”

Niall laughed humourlessly. “You _trust_ me? And that’s supposed to mean something to me? After all the shit you pulled?”

“Yes. I trust you. When it comes down to it… there’s nobody I trust more. I don’t want anyone else handling my things.” Zayn’s voice sounded less self-assured now, Niall was glad to note. “The line of work I’m in can be really messed up sometimes, people looking out for themselves, people trying to use you. You know that. I need someone I can rely on.”

Niall lowered his voice and whispered darkly, “I couldn’t give a _fuck_ what you need.” Out of the corner of his eye, Niall noticed Louis’ eyes widen.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Niall. I’m… sorry in general.” Zayn sounded way too relaxed again for Niall’s liking.

“No, you’re not.”

“I really am actually.”

“All this is one big joke to you, isn’t it. This is my job Zayn, it’s important to me. I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here…”

“I’m not trying to pull anything. Jesus. Don’t you think I know more than anybody how important this job is to you? How hard you worked to get it? I’m not trying to ruin anything for you. In fact I thought you’d be grateful.”

For a moment Niall was too stunned to say anything. But eventually he managed. “Grateful? What do I have to be grateful to you for? Name one thing. Please, I dare you.”

“Your boss was more than pleased when Lola agreed to let you guys represent the agency, I could practically see the dollar signs dancing in his eyes. I thought…I don’t know, I thought this would be a push in the right direction for you, like, for helping you get ahead. Because _you_ are why I wanted to move to his firm.”

 _The arrogant bastard._ “And I’m supposed to feel grateful, feel special? Let’s get one thing straight right now, Malik. I don’t need your help. Okay? I don’t need you to get ahead. I’m doing just fine on my own.”

When Zayn’s voice sounded in Niall’s ear again, it was quieter than before. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not saying you need my help. I just thought it couldn’t hurt.”

“Well you thought wrong.”

“I can see that now. But I still need you to do this for me.”

“Do I have a choice?? No. I don’t. You made sure of that.”

Zayn sighed and had the nerve to actually sound a little hurt. “I was hoping things would be different after all this time. I really hoped you wouldn’t still be mad at me.”

Niall couldn’t even fathom responding to such an idiotic statement. Instead he asked in defeated exasperation, “What do you _want,_ Zayn? I don’t have time for this. What did you call me for exactly? I hope you weren’t looking to chitchat.”

“Is it so wrong to want to just talk to you?- Don’t answer that…Okay, I called to set up a meeting with my lawyer. There’s some things I need to discuss with you.”

“You’re really gonna make me do this? I can recommend you some great attorneys in this firm that can help you instead. More experienced than me. People I trust.”

There was a hesitant pause before Zayn said, “No. I want you.”

And somehow, the soft way Zayn said that brought back a memory that made Niall’s stomach contract and leap towards the middle of his chest. He tried to force the memory down but it kept rising back up, evidently intent on tormenting him.

He needed to get off the phone, needed to stop hearing Zayn’s voice. “I’m busy and you’re interrupting. I have to go. Email me in future when you want to set up a meeting. I’m sure my boss was kind enough to supply you with my email too. I-I’ll try see when I’m free.”

He set the phone down before Zayn could say anything more.

But even without Zayn’s voice in his ear, that memory still swam to the surface. A conversation that had taken place in Niall’s apartment a week after they first met.

_“What would you say if I told you I wanna do you? I want you.”_

What had followed after Zayn said those words was something Niall did not need to be remembering right then.

He barely registered Louis drumming his fingers on Niall’s desk in excitement and saying, “So I googled your ex. Turns out I do know him, just didn’t really know his name. That’s a fine _fine_ piece of ass- you used to tap that? Nice, Horan!”

When Niall didn’t answer, Louis said further, “Although from the sounds of that phone call, I’ll take a guess and say that things are no longer nice.”

Abruptly Niall stood up and mumbled, “Going out for a walk.”

The walk didn’t help.

In fact, it gave his mind more time to wander to unwanted places.

After he’d met Zayn at the charity banquet all those years ago and they’d exchanged numbers, Niall had played it cool. Didn’t text or call him for an entire week. Even managed to hook up with a girl on the Monday and a guy on the Thursday. But unfortunately neither of them quite had those soft pouty lips he couldn’t stop thinking about. And neither of them placed one hand just over the area of Niall’s belly button during a kiss and pressed in a way that made the blonde’s dick start twitching and unfurling.

So for a whole week, Niall waited. And hoped that Zayn was stewing and having similar thoughts. After all Zayn had his number too, so the blonde was prepared to wait until Zayn admitted that he wanted to see Niall again too.

Finally, early on the Saturday morning he got a text from the number he’d saved as “Adonis-Zayn”, and he nearly leapt out of bed and fist pumped. But when he calmed down and actually read what the text said, it stumped him somewhat.

_I know guys like you._

 

That didn’t sound very promising. But still, happy that Zayn had texted at all, Niall wrote back: **Hello to you too. What do you mean guys like me**

 

_Guys who always want to have the upper hand. All week you’ve been waiting for me to be the first one to give in._

 

 **No comment? :** **)**

 

_You’re lucky you’re so cute. And you’re lucky you’re not a completely shit kisser._

 

**Thanks?**

 

_Yeah you’re a really good one in fact. So here I am giving you the upper hand._

 

**There’s no upper hand if we both want this Zayn…**

 

_There's always an upper hand_

 

**_There doesn’t have to be. I’ll prove it to you. Come over to my apartment? Tell me where you are. I’ll come get you_ **

 

_I’m at my apartment. I just hope I won’t regret this *ominous music plays in background*_

 

**Don’t worry so much. We’re gonna have fun you and me. I can feel it!**

 

_That doesn’t make me worry less??_

 

Niall took the quickest shower of his life and drove to the apartment building he still clearly remembered from the night the cab had dropped Zayn off. He watched Zayn hug someone goodbye outside the building entrance, a boy with a messy mop of upturned curls (roommate Harry? Last night’s hook up?). There was dark stubble covering the sharp contours of Zayn’s jaw that hadn’t been there the night of the banquet and goddamn, it was sexy.

When Zayn got into Niall’s passenger seat, the only form of communication they shared, if it could be called that, was a long smile. Other than that they were silent during the drive back to the upmarket yuppie area where Niall’s apartment was located.

Niall laughed when Zayn raised a judgemental eyebrow at the cheery pop song blaring from Niall’s favourite radio station. He let him change the station to an R ‘n B one, and gave Zayn an “I’m judging you” look in return when a particularly dreary song came on.

Fifteen minutes later they walked into the lushly furnished studio apartment, Zayn trailing behind him. When Niall turned to close the door behind them and in the process turned to face towards Zayn, the look on Zayn’s face left him puzzled. This guy was gonna be a tough nut to crack.

He was standing a few steps away, his hands locked behind his back as he bit into his plump bottom lip- _(I could bite that for you, Zayn)._ He looked…not uncomfortable but…uncertain maybe?

Before Niall could try and analyse him further, Zayn was suddenly walking towards him with slow intent, his serious gaze centred on Niall’s face. Niall found himself going forward to meet him halfway even though he didn’t have a clue what Zayn was planning on doing. He soon found out when a soft hand found the skin around his bellybutton _(oh!)_ and another hand wrapped against the small of his back nudging them closer.

Never one to be outdone, Niall placed his own hands just above the back of Zayn’s jeans and he let some fingers trail down his tiny hard ass for a quick squeeze. The two of them didn’t even kiss, just stayed locked in place, groin against groin.

Zayn was biting his lip again, looking nervous again.

And right then was when Niall realised that he didn’t want to rush Zayn, he wanted him to be completely sure. They didn’t have to do anything they weren’t both one hundred percent ready for.

Blue eyes peering into hazel ones, Niall finally let himself think about the way he’d felt a definite jolt or something run through him at the sight of Zayn stepping into his car earlier that day, a jolt that had nothing to do with sex potentially being on the cards and everything to do with Zayn.

There was something there and Niall didn’t want to ruin it. But in order to keep his resolve to not lay Zayn down and not get him to the point where he was writhing and begging for it, Niall had to get out of this apartment. Like, right now. Far away from any surface that even remotely looked like a bed.

“Let’s get outta here…We can go have lunch somewhere or we can get started on those driving lessons I promised you…What do you wanna do?”

Zayn broke eye contact, but at the same time he tightened his grip on Niall’s lower back. He smiled a little as he leaned forward and gifted Niall with a soft languid kiss on the neck, on the tingly spot just below his ear. That light touch sent unexpected shivers coursing down the blonde’s entire torso. Zayn kept his warm lips pressed against Niall’s skin and he murmured, “What would you say if I told you I wanna do _you_? …I want you.”


	4. Chapter 4

“I want you.”

A minute before this, if Niall had been told to guess what Zayn was going to say next, those words would have probably been his 134894530th guess.

He froze in place for a second, highly aware of the sudden hammering of his heart against his chest and the way Zayn’s lips were still gently resting on the skin just below his ear. Niall ran his hands down Zayn’s back, stopping to cup his ass and linger there, and he pulled his head back slightly to look at Zayn directly. Slanting amber eyes looked back at him in amusement, their owner obviously enjoying the fact that he’d caught Niall off guard.

“What would I say?” Niall’s gradually smiled back at him, recovered from his momentary surprise and now merely focusing on the fact that he liked what Zayn had said  _very_  much. “Well I could say: I always aim to please so of course I’ll be of assistance to you in any way I can. I might even say: use my body as you wish and I won’t get in your way because I’m unselfish like that... But what I’m actually gonna say is this, since the first time I saw you I’ve been dying to do really bad things to you. Fucking  _deplorable_  things to you, Zayn.”

The joking light in Zayn’s eyes abruptly faltered, replaced by a sharp intensity that Niall felt immediately. Zayn licked his lips slowly and deliberately -Niall watching in rapt fascination as the slick pink tongue slid in and out- before he questioned the blonde lowly, “Things like what?”

Niall gripped him around the ass even tighter until there wasn’t a spare hundredth of an inch gap between their hips. “Well, do you want us to keep talking about it or...”

Zayn’s response was to wrap his hands around the back of Niall’s head and pull it forward for what started out as a few slow pecks on the lips but then quickly spiralled into something that left them both breathless, their mouths sensitive and swollen, Zayn firmly pinning Niall’s body against the living room wall. As Zayn kissed and nipped and prodded, Niall had almost forgotten how fucking good he was at this. Almost.

Niall shifted to lick along his jaw, wetting the short stubble covering there and eliciting a dirty groan from the other boy. His breathing becoming increasingly heavier, Zayn tilted his head to the side to offer Niall ample room to do his thing. His knees seemed to jerk a little before he uprighted himself, as Niall moved to his neck and ravaged it by capturing the skin between his teeth and peppering little bite marks all over the tan-coloured skin.

The blonde slipped his hands under the red t-shirt Zayn was wearing, moving his hands upwards over his torso until he reached his heaving chest where he rubbed over one nipple with his thumb before giving it a hard tweak. And the way Zayn’s breath hitched told him it was a good idea to play with the other nipple too, which he did while he licked into his mouth again. But Niall was caught off guard again when Zayn’s hand moved from the blonde's waist, travelling around and under his sweatpants to suddenly wrap the hardening length of his cock inside a tight fist.

“Fuck. Jesus, Zayn.” Niall had pulled back from the kiss to speak but before he could move very far away, Zayn’s tongue was in his mouth again, warm and insistent. He could feel Zayn’s own hard-on pressing demandingly against his thigh and he decided that he really didn’t like all the unnecessary clothes they had on.

“Are we gonna do this?” Niall already knew the answer but he just wanted to hear Zayn say it.

The response he got was a little laugh, followed by a slightly breathless, “Yeah. Yes...definitely.”

Okay then. Niall pushed Zayn away, but only to take his arm and tug him towards the spacious bedroom at the farthest end of the apartment. Once there, they flopped backwards onto the messily made bed. Niall made quick work of taking Zayn’s clothes off, leaving him in just a pair of tight black boxer briefs. He planned on taking those off him too eventually, but for now he just really liked the sight of the snug cotton stretched across his little ass and that growing bulge in the front.

Zayn pulled Niall on top of him, grunting just a little as Niall licked around his Adam’s apple before his lips settled on his chin. “Niall, this is kinda unfair you know...”

“What is?”

“I’m practically naked here. Why are you still dressed? I wanna see what ya got...” Zayn ran his hands along Niall’s sweatpants-clad thighs to prove his point, smiling up at him in that slow way Niall was already growing too fond of.

Chuckling, Niall sat up, lifting his arms up above his head like a child. “Do as you please, then.”

Zayn did. And he seemed to like what he saw once Niall was fully naked, because his gaze travelled languidly up and down the blonde’s body and he nodded a little, eyes sensual as he said “I knew it.”

“What did you know?”

 “I knew you’d be this sexy.”

Niall pushed him backwards to lie on the bed, unable to hide his smirk as he moved to cover him again. “Meaning you imagined me naked Zayn, thought about me...about us doing this.”

When Zayn merely smiled again and didn’t answer, Niall grazed his nipples once more and slid down his body to mouth over the material of those black boxers. He very nearly groaned at the feeling of Zayn’s rock-hard dick throbbing against his tongue, and he finally pulled the briefs down his legs.

When Niall flipped him over to lie on his stomach, before parting Zayn’s ass and resting his face there, Zayn seemed more than a little wary.

Zayn clenched his ass cheeks together and tried to turn over onto his back, but Niall held his hips in place, trapping him. Laughing a little nervously Zayn asked, “Wait, exactly what are you planning on doing?”

Niall slipped a thick finger inside him without warning, making Zayn grunt roughly into the pillow. “Well, Zayn. I’m gonna kiss you  _right_  here. Lick you, open you...”

“Wait...I’m not sure about that- I’ve never-” Zayn’s voice sounded hesitant, torn, and he twisted his face around to peer rather dubiously at the blonde. Not quite able to tear his eyes away from Zayn’s butt spread out below him, Niall softly kissed one firm ass cheek, then the other. He nosed in between his butt, murmuring “Just trust me?”

There was a short pause. Then, “Yeah. I mean, okay.”

Obviously needing to start slow here, Niall used only the tip of his tongue, near the hollow of Zayn’s lower back, sliding it slowly along the line between his cheeks. But the immediate gasping “Oooh...” he got in response let the blonde know that his hunch about this was right.

He ventured his tongue further down, towards his balls; wetting the area and taking note of every little murmur and moan floating downwards to him from the boy who had his face buried in the pillow. Niall parted his ass further and for a moment simply stared lustfully at the puckered hole that was exposed to him, not even aware of the reverent “ _fucking hell_ ” that slipped out of his own mouth.

He flicked his tongue inside that hole, moving slowly at first because Zayn seemed to be holding his breath. In and out he moved, venturing his tongue a little deeper each time.

There was that shaky “Oooh God” again, but this time followed by a low rumble, “That...feels good...Don’t stop.”

Niall plunged his tongue in as far as it would go, rapidly twisting it out and then forcing it back in. Zayn yelped hoarsely and even without knowing him for very long, Niall was smugly certain that he wasn’t normally a yelper. The boy’s hands were fisted in the sheets so tightly that his knuckles were noticeably whiter in colour than usual. Licking into him freely now and pressing his tongue forcefully against the sensitive inner walls, he didn’t stop until Zayn’s legs were shaking and the boy’s words were an incoherent jumble of what sounded like Niall’s name, choked curses and pleading to God.

Niall eventually lifted his head and rose to his knees in between Zayn’s legs, admiring his handiwork. He rubbed his hands along Zayn’s thighs and said, “I don’t know how you usually do this. Whether you prefer to be the one to.. But I really wanna fuck you.”

Zayn nodded weakly into the pillow and his voice was muffled as he said, “Yeah. I want you to.”

The condom was slipped on in record time and Niall lubed up liberally. He lined himself up, bracing his hands on Zayn’s hips and sliding inside inch by inch. He had to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment and stay still; this felt just as tight and hot and good as he’d known it would, even more so actually.

Digging his fingers deep into Zayn’s sides, Niall started to move and together they found a rhythm as Zayn pushed to meet his thrusts. Niall grinded into him, becoming rougher and rougher each time he shoved his cock in. When Niall leaned forward a little to hold onto Zayn’s shoulders and fuck him from that deeper angle, they simultaneously let out wrecked moans as they lost themselves in the moment.

Niall found himself with this inexplicable urge to say  _things_  to Zayn as he moved inside him. What things, well he wasn't exactly sure. But he had the good sense to shut up, to just enjoy this.

Zayn who’d already been a mess even before Niall started fucking him, lifted his head abruptly and was coming and coming with only the smallest of sounds but with his whole body trembling and arching below Niall.

Niall pushed hard into him a few more times and immersed himself in the sensation of hot pleasure swirling and building in the pit of his belly. When he reached his peak he collapsed on top of Zayn’s back, not bothering to try and stop the cracked groan that ripped from his throat. He wrapped his arms under Zayn’s chest, after pulling out of him, and he didn’t know why exactly but he kissed the slick sweaty hair on the back of Zayn’s head.

When their breathing had returned to normal and they lay on their backs looking at the ceiling, Zayn was the first to say something.

“Just so you know...” he leaned sideways to nip at Niall’s bottom lip before speaking again. “I didn’t come over here with the intention of sleeping with you...Wait, why are you laughing??”

Niall snorted, sputtering against Zayn’s cheek. “Could’ve fooled me. You practically jumped on me the minute we walked in here.”

“ _Obviously_  you’ve got some kind of juju voodoo magic juice sprayed up in this apartment...I don’t know what came over me.” Zayn laughed too and seemingly unable to stop himself, his mouth was against Niall’s again.

When one of them lazily pulled back some time later, Niall suddenly burst into noisy incontrollable chuckles as he realised that there was something quite vital he hadn’t bothered to find out. “How old are you, Zayn? I really hope I didn’t just fuck a minor.”

Zayn looked vaguely indignant, cutely so. “Do I look like a minor to you? I’m 20.”

“Whew! Thank God...” Niall purposefully overplayed the extent of his relief.

“If anyone looks like a minor here, it’s you. What are you, 19? 18?”

“I get that a lot. My youthful good looks fool everyone. No, I’m 21...older than you so show some respect young man!” Niall twisted his nipple for good measure.

“Age ain’t nothin but a number...” Zayn began crooning the old Aaliyah tune in his ear and Niall mentally rolled his eyes.  _Of course. On top of looking like some Greek God, the guy can sing too._

“Throwin down ain’t nothin but a thang...” Zayn continued, the sound of his smooth voice doing silly tingly things to the pit of Niall’s stomach.

 Zayn stopped singing into his ear and whispered instead, “Niall, I kind of really like the way we threw down. In fact, I demand a repeat performance.” Which did nothing to cease the silly tingly things.

Zayn ended up staying the rest of that Saturday and the Sunday and then they thought, he might as well stay Monday too, right. Somewhere in those three days, they both realised that this thing between them was a lot more than just the sex and kissing stuff. Because if it had just been about sex, they wouldn’t have spent all of Monday curled up against each other on the couch, eating candy and watching every single 1990s Disney movie Niall had on DVD. They had to watch them all because in the morning they’d gotten into quite a lively argument over which film was the best. Zayn’s vote was hands-down The Lion King and (distant) second place was Pocahontas; while Niall insisted that nothing would ever beat the classic that was Beauty and the Beast.

Zayn had work on Tuesday, so on Tuesday morning they agreed rather reluctantly that he should probably go back to his own apartment to change into his waiter uniform. But only because showing up at the restaurant in a pair of Niall’s sweatpants and a too-tight polo shirt wouldn’t have gone down very well with his manager.

So Zayn worked and Niall went to campus to attend his two Tuesday classes at Fairleigh Dickinson University. He couldn’t believe how used to Zayn’s presence he’d gotten in the short space of three days and how much he wanted that presence again. He didn’t even know how to explain it really but since he’d dropped Zayn off that morning, Niall had been playing the whole weekend over in his mind with a big goopey grin on his face.

Back at his apartment that evening, he was watching The Lion King again and trying to think of a way of asking Zayn to come over that wouldn’t seem too needy or clingy. If there was one thing Niall wasn’t and didn’t ever want to be, it was needy. In the midst of his dumb internal dialogue, he heard the message notification on his phone go off.  He had to dig past books and scattered papers to find his phone at the bottom of his book bag and when he read the text, a smile threatened to split his face in half.

_This is probably really lame...But I kinda miss you?_

**Aw :) Zayn :) But I’m not chicken like you. I can admit I dont “kinda” miss you. I just miss you**

_Aw :) Niall :)  But I bet you say that to all your weekend hook-ups_

**I dont actually. I dont have wknd hookups anyway. Not ones that last the whole wknd.**

Immediately after this, Niall sent another message before he had time to overthink it:  **You’re not a hookup**

The response he got had him whistling cheerily to the melody of Aaliyah.

 

_You’re not a hook-up either :D What are you doing right now_

**Absolutely nothing**

(And Niall almost kicked himself after sending that one - couldn’t he have at least pretended to be doing something vaguely interesting...) But soon enough, he was glad he hadn't pretended to be out with friends or something.

_Good. If you don’t mind can you come by here? We should go out tonight_

  
**I do not mind. Jst tell me where here is. Are you at home?**

 

 

(And so it began.)


	5. Chapter 5

And so it began.

After that first weekend they spent together, what quickly followed was an intense, sometimes tumultuous, often all-consuming relationship. “Opposites attract” is a well-known phrase for a reason: it’s been proven time and time again to be true. But the real test which is hardly ever adequately explored in love songs or romantic movies is whether opposites can make it work past the initial attraction, stick it out even when the honeymoon phase is long over.

Being Zayn’s boyfriend was a rollercoaster of many highs and a few lows, mostly because Zayn himself could be defined as  _highs and lows_  - hyper and incessantly talkative one day; still, introspective and brooding the next day. One or the other, not really anything in-between. He had a quiet sort of self-assuredness about him, but at times he seemed plagued by niggling little insecurities that emerged during moments of weakness. Niall on the other hand was steadier - a constant presence of optimism, brazen confidence and general laidbackness (bordering on laziness, if you were inclined to listen to what his parents had to say). For most of their time together he and Zayn didn’t often have  _real_  arguments but when they did, the fights were dramatic. Passionate. Extreme. Operatic even. Those were the few times when Niall lost any semblance of being laidback.

The both of them had serious tempers- although Zayn’s was more of the simmering type that built up and built up over days as he silently tallied-up your wrong-doings before imploding. Niall’s temper was harder to bring out. However when you did do something drastic enough to provoke him- the result was something (someone) instantly explosive and fiery.

But for years they did make things work- because back then, being apart didn’t even occur to them as something worth considering.

.................................

 _  
_ But all of that was a long time ago. Nowadays, Niall preferred to pretend Zayn didn't exist at all. Apparently though, what he preferred was not exactly in line with what his job needed him to do. So there was that.

_Microsoft Outlook Meeting Invitation_

_From: Liam Payne_

_To: Niall Horan_

_Meeting agenda: Discussions between Niall Horan and Zayn Malik_

_Meeting location: Hewlett Sandsman and Pringle Associates premises; Trenton, New Jersey_

_Good morning Mr Horan_

_I’m the assistant to your client, Zayn Malik, and he has requested that I send you an official meeting invitation for discussions that need to take place between the two of you. In light of this, please indicate your availability for the 3 rd of July. Mr Malik also said the meeting can take place at your offices for your convenience, if you are in agreement with this. Please let me know if you wish to make alternative arrangements._

_Liam Payne_

Mr Malik?? Niall’s first thought was: what on earth does Zayn’s Dad have to do with any of this? Then he quickly caught on and realised that evidently there were poor sods out there who now had to call Zayn “Mr.” Actually the whole situation was bizarre, so much so that Niall read the invitation at least three more times with somewhat dazed eyes. The fact that within the space of one year, the two of them had gone from being ZaynandNiall to communicating through formal emails and personal assistants was just plain weird, to be honest.

Louis was in court that day with Mr Sandsman. Niall wasn’t sure if he was grateful or sorry for his absence. While it might have been nice to get Louis’ advice on how he should word his response to Zayn/Liam, it was also really nice to get a break from Louis’ constant barrage of questions about him and Zayn, how they met, why they broke up, why Niall never spoke about him.

To make matters worse Louis had somehow managed to find and gather near-nude pictures of Zayn from a campaign he’d done for Armani underwear a few months ago. Louis then circulated them in an email to Niall and their few close friends in the firm, with the subject line  _Can you believe all this used to be Horan’s???_ The deadly glares Niall gave him did nothing to stop Louis’ cackling as he announced more Google searches throughout the day:  _Zayn underwear_ ,  _Zayn Malik naked, Zayn Malik ex-boyfriend._ Niall knew in the back of his mind that this was just Louis’ way of trying to force him to talk about it all.

The most annoying consequence of Louis’ emails was that for the past two days, Niall had been forced to field questions from Candice Hewlett and other girls in the office. He really didn’t get why they were all so fascinated by a guy in underwear. Okay, so maybe those downright s-t-e-a-m-y pictures had made Niall turn an unsightly shade of scarlet when he’d first seen them two months ago as he stood in the checkout line at the pharmacy, flicking through a magazine. And maybe he’d promptly closed the magazine and flung it back onto the rack, before grabbing it again seconds later and adding it to his pile of toiletries just before the cashier finished ringing his things up. Cursing himself the whole time.

But the point was, the last thing he wanted to do was answer questions from his colleagues - friends or no friends - on whether those Armani pictures were indeed  _um, an anatomically accurate representation of Zayn, y’know...down there_  (as Candice put it).

Reading Liam’s email one last time and figuring that there was no point in trying to delay or avoid the inevitable, Niall clicked “accept invitation” and typed back a short response that said the meeting arrangements were fine with him. He almost wanted to add: remember I’m only doing this because I have to! But there was no point in taking his frustrations out on this Liam guy. It wasn’t Liam’s fault that  _Mr Malik_  was such a prick.

An hour later there was a response from the email address of Mr Malik himself, not his assistant’s, which just simply said:  _Thanks. - Z_

Well.

Still a prick though.

Niall spent the rest of his day in a briefing with Mr Hewlett and Candice in New York City, and then the latter half of the afternoon with just Candice pouring over casebooks and textbooks in the firm’s mini-library, researching information for an upcoming trial against a major grocery store chain. In law school, nobody had warned him how much of his job would involve research and memo writing and preparing briefs for senior lawyers and  _more_ research. But he loved it, so he could more than suck it up.

As he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex late that night after picking up something nutrionally-void from McDonalds, he kind of wished that he’d made up some excuse to Liam and requested a later date for the meeting. The 3rd of July was the day after tomorrow and Niall wasn’t sure if he was ready. He wasn’t nervous or anything like that, just...not ready.

................................

D-day. It was ridiculous how quickly a day could pass when you were trying to stall time. Before he knew it, the day of his meeting with Zayn had arrived. He kind of hated how long he took deciding what to wear that morning. Besides the fact that Zayn had seen him countless times in everything from barely-there boxer briefs, to torn jeans, to sweatpants that had definitely seen better days. Besides that. More importantly, Niall  _didn’t care_  what Zayn thought of him anymore.

After showering and then staring blankly into his closet for far too long, he settled on a simple black suit, a light blue shirt and a lilac-coloured tie. But then he thought, maybe he should go for the red tie...or the blue one with little white dots, or what about the blue and ruby striped one. No, lilac. Definitely lilac.

As soon as he reminded himself that  _everybody_  wanted to look good in front of their exes (and that anybody who said different was a liar), he relaxed a little and didn’t berate himself for spending way more time styling his blonde locks than usual. Nobody could blame him, especially when that ex in question happened to be someone whose job it was to look good.

His meeting with Zayn was at 11 o’ clock so when he arrived at work, he still had a couple of hours to try and  _relax, dammit_. Louis was back in the office that morning and Niall deliberately made sure not to tell him that Zayn was coming. Because Niall would be forced to throw himself off a building if Louis and the girls made the type of comments to Zayn that Niall was positive they would.

Louis would probably tell Zayn that Niall spent office hours trawling the internet for naked pictures of him. Well, not really- Niall didn’t actually think Louis would do that to him. He was a really good friend, underneath all the flash and jokes. But Louis would say  _something_ , of this Niall was sure.

So after his meeting and after Zayn had gone, only then would Niall tell Louis. He would also try to block the kicks that would surely come his way for not announcing Zayn’s arrival as soon as it happened.

Admittedly he didn’t actually get anything meaningful done that morning- he couldn’t even prepare for his meeting with Zayn because he had no clue what Zayn wanted from him. At around 10 minutes before 11, his work phone rang and the in-house caller ID told him it was Candice.

“Niall Horan!” She hissed comically into the phone, obviously trying to keep her voice down for reasons unknown to Niall.

“What? Why are you talking like that?”

“Why didn’t you say you were getting a  _visitor_  today?”

Shit. He’d forgotten that as one of the paralegals, if one of the secretaries was away or out, Candice often did the tasks that were usually delegated to the secretaries - tasks such as answering phones and welcoming clients.

“Um.”  _Very eloquent, Niall_. He could only hope that his mouth would be working a bit better in time for his meeting.

“He says you’re expecting him so don’t lie and say you weren’t!”

Niall was actually quite impressed that she still managed to convey that she was telling Niall off, even though she was whispering.

“Uh. I forgot?”  _Yeah right_.

“Yeah right, Niall. Anyway, we’ll talk later! I’m taking him to the meeting room near my father’s office. So you can meet him there.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Me, you. Talk. Afterwards.” She promised quite menacingly.

When he rose from his desk with a legal pad and pen, Louis raised an eyebrow and said suspiciously, “And where are you off to? I didn’t know you had a meeting today.”

“It was unexpected. Really busy client, short notice.” Technically it wasn’t a lie, but Niall still felt a glimmer of guilt as he walked away. He realised that he really needed to work on his dislike for telling half-truths and white-lies, otherwise he was probably in the wrong profession.

On his way to the meeting room, he ran into Candice who was evidently on her way back from getting Zayn settled in.

She bumped his shoulder and said in a jumble of excited jabbering, “Next time warn a girl! I nearly passed out when he walked in. I honestly almost fell out of my chair. I’d  _just_  been looking at that picture of him Louis sent yesterday, like, not even 2 minutes before.”

From the way her movements and voice were a little shaky, Niall could only imagine what she’d been like in Zayn’s presence and he couldn’t help but laugh at her. “Serves you right. And delete those emails, will you. Louis is an idiot.”

He made a gesture towards the hallway, letting her know that he should really be on his way. He walked very slowly the rest of the way to the meeting venue but when he got to the closed door, he didn’t hesitate or hover outside for a few moments. He was more of a  _just-get-it-over-with_ kind of guy. He opened the door swiftly and deliberately avoided the eyes of the person sitting on the side of the round table closest to the window.

Only when he’d walked into the room and sat down opposite him, laid out his writing pad and pen in front of him- only then did Niall finally look up and say, “Good morning, Mr Malik. Is there anything you’d like before we begin? Tea, coffee?” He was proud of how composed and professional he sounded.

Zayn looked at him, dumb-founded, for a moment before clearing his throat and mumbling, “Hi, Niall. I’d really prefer if you didn’t call me that.” Niall hadn’t seen him in the flesh in 13 months and now, he let his gaze wander over Zayn’s face for a moment before settling somewhere above his head.

Niall wasn’t mocking him by calling him Mr Malik actually, but was merely trying to immediately make sure that their new roles were clearly established- client and attorney, nothing more. He was only here to do his job.

But still he heard himself saying dryly, “I thought that’s what you were called these days. If your assistant’s emails are anything to go by.”

Zayn leaned forward with a frown, shaking his head. “Liam? That’s just how he is, he insists on it. I’ve told him more than enough times he can just call me Zayn.”

Niall almost wanted to look away because since the moment he’d sat down, Zayn’s eyes hadn’t left Niall once and it was slightly disconcerting. He shrugged and responded, “None of my business really. But...I’ll also insist on addressing you as Mr Malik - I think it’s better that way. Anyway, can we get started? What is it you wanted to discuss?”

Zayn shook his head again. “Niall-” He seemed to abruptly change his mind about whatever he wanted to say and he was quiet. It wasn’t Niall’s responsibility to fill the uncomfortable silence that followed so he just stared back at Zayn, flicking his pen against his pad in an impatient manner.

It was strange seeing his ex again. Actually  _strange_  wasn't the word for it, not even close. He’d changed a little since Niall had last seen him. He looked older somehow. Not really physically older, but there was an air about him that seemed just that bit more jaded. And Niall hated that he knew Zayn well enough that he could tell this from just a few minutes in his presence.

His dark hair wasn’t in its usual quiff and it had little or no product in it; it was down in soft waves around his head which was the way Niall had always preferred it. The stubble across his face was about 2 days old and he had on the thick-framed glasses that he’d bought when the two of them were in LA. Again, Niall wished he didn’t know all this.

Just when the awkward silence was reaching an unbearable point and Niall was going to be forced to break it, Zayn finally spoke. “I guess we can start with getting you up-to-date on what contracts I’m in now and what’s coming up soon.”

Niall nodded and stopped tapping his pen. “Yes. Your contractual obligations, that’s a good place to start.”

Zayn licked his lips and bent down to retrieve something. He pulled a thick document out from what Niall assumed was his bag and set it down on the table. Before bending down and taking out an even thicker document.

“What is all that?”

“Um, this one is all my current contracts and these here are the ones I need to consider with you and Lola. Liam put these copies together for you.” The thicker document was the one with all the new contracts to consider.

Jesus. They were never going to finish here. Niall put a hand up. “The contracts you’ve already signed, I would assume your old attorney already took you through them?”

Zayn nodded.

“Okay, so we don’t have to attend to those today. You’re already legally bound to them. So unless there’s a specific problem in one of them you want to discuss, just leave that with me and I’ll review it after our meeting.”

“Okay.” Zayn slid the smaller file across the table towards Niall, who flipped through it briefly. This Liam guy was very efficient.

Looking back up at Zayn, he asked him, “You’ve had a look through all your potential contracts? Have you decided which ones appeal to you? Because it’s not really my place to advise you on that, Lola would be better suited for that. I can only help you in terms of making sure that the contracts are legally sound for serving your interests.”

“Um...” Zayn ran a swift hand through his hair and it was a gesture he always used to do whenever he'd been caught out on something. Meaning that Zayn hadn’t really looked at this document very much, if at all.

Niall refrained from rolling his eyes but it was difficult. His parents had always gone on and on about how hard a worker Zayn was and how  _lazy_  Niall was. “I’m going to ask Liam to set up a meeting with Lola, your agent, yourself, myself. We should all set aside at least 3 hours to get through everything, although I must insist that everyone should have at least  _looked_  at the document beforehand.”

Zayn obviously knew that this was a dig at him because his lips turned up just a little and he nodded.

“Right.” Niall stood up and stuck his hand out. Zayn merely looked at it as if it were a strange object and Niall couldn’t really blame him. He didn’t think they’d ever shaken hands in all the years they’d known each other. There’d been no need for polite niceties; they’d had their tongues in each other’s mouths within seconds of meeting.

Zayn didn’t shake his hand but instead asked, “Wait, is that it? We’re done?”

Niall was already moving towards the door. “Yes, we’re done. There isn’t much we can do today. Unless there was something else besides your contracts...?”

Zayn shook his head after a brief pause. He stood up too and gathered his things, before following Niall out of the room.

On their way down the corridor, the only words exchanged were Niall’s, “I’ll ask Candice to see you out, Mr Malik. I’ll be in touch.”

This time Zayn did shake his hand, albeit without much enthusiam, and Niall walked him to the reception area where Candice was manning the phones. She jumped and dropped the papers in her hand when they walked into the space, and Niall had a hunch it had a lot more to do with Zayn than it had to do with him. Just a hunch.

He left the two of them there, Zayn standing kind of awkwardly near the exit and Candice gazing at him with a dumb grin on her face. When Niall walked away, he had no idea how or where to even start interpreting the way Zayn was looking at him. So he wasn't going to try.

Niall made the short distance back to his desk and then he kind of wished that he’d walked Zayn out or gone for a walk himself, because the look Louis was giving him as he approached was lethal and pretty damn scary. Clearly, Candice had told Louis who Niall had been in a meeting with.

“Hey buddy...” Niall didn’t really think this would work, but it was worth a shot.

“Don’t ‘hey buddy’ me Horan...”

Well.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little fyi in case things get confusing: flashbacks/going back in time are written in **bold**.

 “I’m not going.”

“Niall, you keep saying that. And I’m sorry to have to be the one to break this to you - really I am - but I don’t think you have a choice.”

Louis was right, as he often was. Niall didn’t have a choice. The only untrue part of what Louis had just said was that he was sorry. He looked _far_  from sorry. He looked more like his birthday and Christmas had come six months early, if the badly-hidden gleeful glint in his eyes was anything to go by.

But that didn’t stop Niall from repeating adamantly, (as if saying it would make it come true), “I’m not going. I refuse.”

“It sounds like fun though. I’ll come with you, of course... For moral support.”

_And that was why Louis looked so excited- he wanted in._

The two of them were scoffing down jumbo hotdogs from a nearby stand, sitting on a bench outside their office building during their lunch break.  And right in line with how horrible many of Niall’s mornings had been recently, earlier that day he’d gotten news that was not pleasing to his ears. This time, in the form of an email from Candice Hewlett on behalf of her father. So, not pleasing to his eyes, rather.

Apparently Mr Hewlett wanted Niall to attend the annual Portfolio Inc luncheon, one of the biggest events on the modelling agency’s social calendar - a yearly gathering in Manhattan of “agency heads, industry insiders, our models, fashion houses and loyal business partners” (according to the formal invite inside the fancy gold envelope later delivered to Niall’s desk).

Mr Hewlett, who the invitation was clearly addressed to in intricate thin ink, evidently had better things to do and hence was doing what bigwigs did best - delegating. He’d also left no impression that Niall’s attendance was in any way voluntary... something about the firm needing to show their face, at least in this first year of representing Portfolio Inc.

Niall couldn’t wait until he was a bigwig himself. But until then, no matter how much he tried to tell himself otherwise, on Saturday he would be decked out in CapeTown Cool ( _?? What the hell kind of dress code was that_ ) and he would be watching models nibble on one carrot stick each for an entire afternoon. Worst of all, Zayn would probably be there.

Well, the invitation  _did_  say attendees could bring a plus 1 so Niall was going to assume that he could bring one too. There was no way he could brave something like this alone. So Tomlinson would have to suffer along with him. Not that Niall was going to give Louis the satisfaction of knowing this just yet- for the next couple of days, he’d let Lou drop more unsubtle hints about how many  _perfect_  Cape Town/African outfits he had just  _waiting_  in closet.

..................................

On Saturday morning Niall crossed his fingers before getting out of bed and sent up a humble and beseeching prayer to God requesting that He arrange for Zayn to be far away that day, perhaps working on some shoot in Europe or filming a cheesy shampoo commercial in Japan (Niall wasn’t picky about the wheres and whys, he just wanted Zayn to not be in Manhattan.)

After his encounter with Zayn two weeks back, Niall had let out a (premature) sigh of relief, and patted himself on the back for getting through it without crying and/or punching Zayn. Apart from an upcoming meeting Liam had set up to discuss potential contracts with Zayn’s entire team, Niall had thought he was rid of his ex for the time being.

Louis was beyond excited about the luncheon, hardly going 2 seconds without veering every conversation towards how he was  _finally_  going to meet Niall’s “ex-lover” and how he couldn’t wait to see how the pretty people lived. Niall refrained from reminding him that he was far from shabby-looking himself: if there was one thing Louis’ ego did not need, it was stroking.

Louis repeatedly stressed that their party attire needed to be nothing less than magnificent, so that they wouldn’t embarrass themselves in front of the pretties. Whatever CapeTown Cool was, Niall was 98 percent sure he didn’t have anything remotely suitable in his closet. In the end, he settled on dark jeans and a light blue button-up shirt. Whatever. He thought he looked decent enough, who cared if it wasn’t a particularly groundbreaking or thought-out outfit. However, when Louis came to pick Niall up that morning, Niall felt sorely inadequate and vastly underdressed. Louis was in a printed traditional Zulu caftan ( _where the hell did he get that?)_  and linen pants that showed his ass off perfectly.

 “Why do you look so nervous?” Louis asked this when they were about 10 minutes from their destination, glancing briefly at Niall in the passenger seat. Indeed, as they got closer to Manhattan Niall started to feel slightly queasy and it probably showed. He’d been to plenty of similar Portfolio events with Zayn in the past. He didn’t want to be back in this world again.

“I’m not nervous...Stop looking at me like that, Tomlinson. I’m  _not_. What you are seeing on my face is distaste over the mere thought of how my next few hours are going to be spent.”

The venue was listed on the invitation as the rooftop of the Regency Hotel. Niall had stayed there a few times, with his parents when he was younger and once with Zayn when he’d first signed with Portfolio. They left Louis’ car in the undercover parking space across the street from the hotel, before making their way into the sprawling building and up the elevator towards the rooftop. The security at the door promptly stepped aside to let them in as soon as Niall fished the invitation from his pocket.

Louis actually gave an unmanly little squeal as they walked in, mumbling something that sounded like “everyone’s so pretty...” Niall was too busy scanning the expansive area for familiar faces to respond. At least this wasn’t a prissy sit-down event, he really hated those. Long tables with mountains of delectable looking food were placed near the projector screens at the farthest end of the space but people were mostly ignoring those, in favour of standing around and chatting animatedly in groups of fives and fours. There was, as usual, a vast amount of champagne being consumed. Some people were dressed like Louis, others in weird floaty-hipsterish clothing.

Louis wanted to start mingling immediately but Niall thought he might actually pass out if he didn’t eat something soon, so he dragged Louis to the lonely-looking platters of food. As he loaded a plate with wings and gourmet sandwiches, he felt sorry for all these poor suckers who were letting all this deliciousness go to waste. Niall smiled at the few tubby older men also hovering around the food.

“Niall?” a deep voice behind him questioned in a manner that sounded utterly stunned. “Oh my God. I thought it was you.” Because Niall definitely recognised that voice, he froze. But a second later, he realised without having to turn around:  _not Zayn_. And a second after this, it came to him:  _Harry_.

He dropped the serving spoon back into the bowl of sliced fresh fruit. Slowly he turned around and was surprised at the level of hurt he still felt after all these months. He felt something worryingly akin to stinging in the base of his throat as he looked the tall form of Harry Styles up and down.

For years Harry was one of Niall’s best friends, and then one day he wasn’t. Just like that. Yes, Zayn and Harry were friends first, long before Niall came into the picture but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt that Harry had taken Zayn’s side so readily. Harry had always been the one who Niall dragged to bars and pubs to see awesome (read: obscure) bands whenever his other friends refused to go (in other words, all the time). Harry had been the first person Niall went to talk to after his worst fights with Zayn because nobody else knew how to diffuse a situation faster.

Harry would patiently explain some of the more complicated details behind Zayn’s insecurities and he’d repeatedly remind him that Zayn didn’t mean half the things he said in heated moments. Harry was Niall’s sounding board, his drinking buddy, his  _friend_.

But in one fell swoop, Niall lost both of them. In a way, not hearing from Harry after the breakup had hurt more than not hearing from Zayn, because at least with Zayn there’d been a known reason and at least with Zayn Niall hadn’t wanted to hear from him anyway.

The clearing of Louis’ throat beside him snapped Niall back to the present where Harry was looking at him like he couldn’t quite believe it.

Harry stepped forward a little. “Ni. What are you doing here? - I mean, not that you shouldn’t be - just that I haven’t seen you in... uh, did Zayn invite you?”

Niall almost laughed at the ludicrousness of that idea. But he didn’t really feel like laughing. “No. Here on official business, you could say. Won’t be staying long, don’t worry.”

Harry visibly flinched and he looked  _sad_. “Why would you say that? Like I want you to leave? I don’t - I...don’t.”

“Sure.”

A beat of silence. “So...are you having a good time so far? Pretty good turnout, huh?”

“Dunno. Just got here,” Niall replied unhelpfully.

But Harry merely nodded. He looked towards his shoes for a few moments and then said slowly, nervously, “Look, I know everything got a bit messed up. But that doesn’t mean we - I’m just really happy to see you.”

Instead of making Niall feel better, these words did just the opposite - if Harry truly gave a shit like he was trying to imply he did, today wouldn’t be their first time speaking in months.

But another thing caught Niall’s attention right then. The bizarrely uncharacteristic degree of silence from his “date” was beginning to alarm Niall just a little. By now Louis should have already barged into the conversation, forced Harry and Niall to hug it out and made at least 3 inappropriate comments in the process. But he was oddly quiet. Niall had been brought up to always have good manners so, “Uh. Harry, this is my friend Louis. Louis, this is my - this is Harry.”

Hi’s and polite handshakes were exchanged as Niall looked on, watching his present and past collide before him. Niall pretended not to notice that the look in Louis’ eyes had taken on a very worrying gleam. A gleam that could only mean that his mind was going into overdrive, even though he was still so  _weirdly_ quiet.

A young man with a buzz cut and big brown eyes approached Harry then and whispered something in his ear. He’d obviously decided to ignore the dress code too because he was dressed in formal black pants and a soft-looking grey sweater. When Harry pulled away after listening to what the man had to say, he turned to Niall and gestured towards the brown-eyed man. “Niall, Liam...I’m not sure if you two have crossed paths yet...”

So this was Liam Payne. In his mind, Niall had imagined Zayn’s assistant to be a small weedy person, average looking, maybe with glasses. But he should have known better - of course Zayn would hire someone so attractive. Apparently Liam had been expecting something different too because when he shook Niall’s hand, he said in a sure polite voice, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr Horan. I must admit when Mr Malik said you were his new attorney I imagined you to be...older.”

“Liam, he’s your friend for goodness sake. I don’t understand why you won’t just call him Zayn. This Mr Malik business is ridiculous.” Harry sounded fondly exasperated.

“At work, he’s Mr Malik. And right now, I’m working. For the hundredth time, the distinction means that there’s always a level of professionalism. Which would otherwise be sorely lacking around the likes of you guys. Yeah he’s my friend. But at work, he’s my boss.”

Liam Payne was adorable and Niall could tell that he was one of those people who were genuinely nice, a rare quality these days. Niall beamed at him, he couldn’t help it. “Just Niall, please. None of that Mr Horan stuff. Nice to meet you too.”

After Liam and Louis were introduced, Harry explained that Liam needed help with one of the projector screens. The two of them went to go fiddle with wires Niall knew nothing about. Before Harry walked away though, he said to Niall “Can we talk? Like, before you go? Don’t go before then please.”

Speaking of projector screens, the wide cinema-size one at the back was currently playing a montage of images from different Fashion Weeks as well as pictures of models in varying states of undress for a myriad of brands.  After watching the screen with Louis for a few minutes, the two of them deduced that the title of Portfolio Inc’s female star was a tossup between a bald dark-skinned Ghanaian girl named Abena and a blonde Russian named Lia, but there was no question as to who was the top male was. Although Zayn was evidently not in attendance today, he was featured heavily in the flashing images.

Two weeks before, Niall had kept his word and thoroughly went through all of Zayn’s contracts over the course of two days. He’d already known most of what Zayn had been up to in the past year due to the mere fact that he had ears and eyes. But on paper, in black and white, it was astonishing how well Zayn was doing. Currently he was the face of Emporio Armani underwear, Gucci Guilty for Men, Audemar Piguet watches and L’Oreal Paris Men. He’d also started branching out into acting in the last few months - the screens at the luncheon showed stills of Zayn in small guest star roles on some CW show Niall didn’t watch and a crime procedural show on Fox Niall definitely did watch.

Louis didn’t make any of his usual lewd comments, even when a close-up of Zayn’s ass flashed on the screen, snugly clad in Armani briefs. Niall turned away from the screen but Louis looked like he barely even registered what he was watching.

“Are you okay? You’re kinda quiet. Are you sick or something?”

“Huh? What?” See. Barely even listening.

“Lou, I asked if you’re alright. Do you wanna leave?”

But Louis shook his head obstinately and finally seemed to snap out of it. “No, I do not. I’m fine. It’s just - your friend Harry-”

“He’s not my friend... He’s Zayn’s friend, I learned that the hard way.”

“Whatever. Is he available?”

Niall laughed then, for the first time that day. “You can’t be serious! Oh...you are. Um, I don’t know! How should I know. Like I said, he’s not my friend.”

“Well, find out! He's beautiful. Have you ever seen such an attractive person in your life... And so  _sweet_ , even though you were so mean to him.” Louis grabbed Niall’s shoulders. “Even if he’s not your friend, I am. So find out for me.” Niall didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He was leaning more towards crying now, though. Louis developing a Harry-obsession was the last thing Niall needed.

They didn’t see much of Harry or Liam after that, but they did meet Lola, the owner of the agency who could have been anywhere between the ages of 35 and 50. Her face was so unnaturally rigid, it was hard to tell. An hour later when Niall figured that he’d put in more than enough time at this joint and he tried to slip out the door past the security still posted there, Louis was less than cooperative, barring his exit.

“I thought Harry said he wanted to talk to you first!”

“He’s obviously busy somewhere. Do you see him?”

It was a rhetorical question but Louis scanned the area anyway and apparently located Harry because he waved him over wildly.

_Crap._

“I’m gonna leave you guys to talk. Meet me at the car. Remember what I said! Find out for me.” And with that and a wink, Louis departed, leaving Niall looking at his retreating back bitterly.

Harry arrived at his side and said hesitantly, “Thanks. For giving me a chance to talk to you. I feel like I owe you an explanation. And it’s come way too late, I know that. But I’d still like to try.”

Niall didn’t say anything because Harry was right- whatever he had to say, it was about a year too late.

Harry asked if they could go talk somewhere private and Niall allowed himself to be led out the exit and into a side room near the bottom of the stairs, which turned out to be a mini-kitchen.

Harry jumped onto the counter beside the bar fridge but Niall hovered near the door, making it painfully obvious that he wanted to leave as soon as possible. Harry looked at him for a moment before taking a deep breath and plunging right in, “We were friends, right? Good friends. And I know after you and Zayn, well after everything happened, we kind of stopped being friends... I just want you to know I didn’t want it to be like that.”

“Then why did it work out that way? You started avoiding me, wouldn’t see me when I tried to make plans with you...” That came out sounding a lot more bitter than Niall had intended.

Harry looked ashamed as he gazed towards the floor, but his voice was steady when he lifted his head and spoke, “Since we were kids, Zayn’s been my best friend. And that’s not to say you aren’t - um, weren’t my best friend too. But I had to be there for him. He was in a bad place. He’s not like you, Niall. He doesn’t accumulate friends wherever he goes, he doesn’t find it as easy as you do. He only really had me. Everybody else took your side-”

“- That’s because he’s the one who lied his way through the entire last 2 months of our relationship and basically stuck his middle finger up at everything we went through together!”

Harry shook his head and put a hand up, as if to say  _please don't get yourself all worked up_. “I know, okay.  _He_  knows. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t need someone to be there for him. I made a choice and it sucked to have to do it. And it was not based on who was right and who was wrong. I chose based solely on who needed me more. But I never stopped thinking of you as my friend. I’m sorry, for what it’s worth.”

Niall walked into the room now and joined Harry up on the counter. “That doesn’t mean much, Harry. Whether or not our other friends took my side really doesn’t matter, what does matter is the fact that you were able to kick me out of your life so easily. I didn’t deserve that.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to choose. I shouldn’t ever have had to choose in the first place. You two weren’t supposed to let things get that bad...”

The two of them were quiet then. Niall was still far from forgiving Harry or even completely buying his explanation but he was lost in thought, trying to see the fucked up situation from a point of view other than his own.

Eventually Niall said, “So where is Zayn anyway?”

“Thailand. L’Oreal shoot. I only came to help Liam out.”

_Thanks God for answering my prayer, You da man._

“You’re the one who told Zayn where I work, right? But who told  _you_? Sean? Matt?”

Harry looked surprised.”I didn’t actually. Your Dad told him...I thought you knew that.”

No, Niall definitely did not know this. It was unwelcome news to him that Zayn was still talking to his parents. But maybe Maura Horan would have mentioned it to Niall if Niall hadn’t threatened to never visit home again if his mother didn’t stop asking about Zayn, sometime during the first month after they broke up.

“Your Dad told him. And then Zayn wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks. I literally had to beg him to shut up.” Harry turned his torso a little to look at him directly.  “He was really proud of you, Niall.”

Niall doubted that. There was a time when they believed in each other’s dreams and wanted them to come true as though they were their own dreams, but not anymore. He hopped off the counter, and mumbled a vague bye in Harry's direction.

.........................

As Niall left the modeling agency's party and went to meet Louis, he thought about how all this had began. He still clearly remembered the day Zayn went to the open-call auditions for new models at Portfolio Inc, over two years ago. That day changed everything.

**It was Zayn’s umpteenth time going to open calls at different agencies, and Niall could tell that his boyfriend was starting to get really discouraged about the numerous rejections. Reasons for him being turned down by those other agencies ranged from “not quite tall enough” to “don’t like his legs” and “not sure his ethnic look would work in today’s market.”**

**Niall was not nearly as discouraged. He knew that Zayn would get signed one day. In Niall's eyes, Zayn was the most beautiful person on this Earth. There was no way he wouldn't find an agency that wanted to represent him.  So in bed on that fateful morning as they lay on their sides facing each other, Niall was excited and hopeful; while Zayn had tossed and turned all night.**

**“Angelface...” Zayn whispered gently, his lips against Niall’s forehead as he attempted to awaken the blonde. Unbeknown to Zayn, Niall was already awake. He just loved having Zayn's mouth on his skin, stubble scratching against his cheeks, Zayn’s arms tight around him. (The “angelface” thing totally started out as a joke, but it kind of stuck. During a moment one night with Niall slowly and torturously riding Zayn's cock, Zayn had looked up at him and said something about Niall having the face of a fucking angel but the kind of dirty sexy moves in bed that made Zayn forget his own name.)**

**Niall was blissfully enjoying the wake-up kisses he was receiving. But after a while he couldn’t convincingly pretend to be asleep anymore (he thought that the reddening of his skin and his uneven breathing could** _possibly_   **be giving him away as Zayn’s lips continued to move across his chin, cheeks, nose, mouth; all the while as Zayn stroked a slow steady hand up and down his side). Niall opened one eye. “Trying to get some sleep here. Do you mind.”**

**“You’ve been awake for ages now, you idiot.”**

**“Shut up...”**

**Zayn smiled. “I love you.” He leaned forward and kissed him, a quick peck on the lips.**

**Sometimes** _love_   **didn’t seem like a fitting enough description for what Niall felt for this man lying next to him. It was like Niall's heart had to constantly try to stretch and expand to fit all the overwhelming emotion flooding it.**

**They didn’t really have to get up for another half an hour, so they chose to stay entangled in bed, Niall’s head resting on Zayn’s chest.**

**“I'm gonna fail again... I'm not gonna get in,” It was said so heartbreakingly soft, Niall barely heard him.**

**But he did hear. He lifted his head and looked down into Zayn’s eyes, wishing with all his heart that someone so absolutely wonderful wasn’t so full of self-doubt. “You have never failed. All those agency reps were imbeciles for not signing you. And one day they’re gonna regret it so bad. And we’re gonna laugh in their faces.”**

**“You really think so?”**

**“I know so, babe. It doesn’t even matter if you don’t know it, cos it’s gonna happen for you anyway.”**

**Zayn sighed and squeezed him, his fingers digging into the base of Niall’s back. “I hope so. I want - I want to be able to take care of you, of us. I want to give you everything you deserve. You deserve everything, much more than _this_.”**

**It wasn’t the first time Zayn had expressed something similar to this and it made Niall exasperated each and every time. While it was very sweet and all, Zayn was still implying that he wasn’t enough for Niall just as he was. Not for the first or last time, Niall told him, “I already have everything I want.” They weren’t exactly living in the lap of luxury, but they had all they needed. And they had each other.**

**“Yeah, I know. But you didn’t grow up living like this. I know it’s been hard since your parents cut you off...I want you to have everything you’re used to.”**

**After a pause Niall settled back onto Zayn’s chest and gave up for the time being; there was no getting through to his boyfriend. And he didn’t want to start something that might descend into an argument. But he whispered one last time, “I already have everything.”**

How was he to know that after that day, their lives would never be the same again. For better or for worse.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole chapter takes place two years in the past, on the day of the flashback in the last chapter :)

Niall’s phone began ringing loudly in his pocket just as he was racing up the stairs along the edge of the lecture hall, on his way out of his Legal Writing class on a Thursday afternoon.

The opening cords of  _Fancy_ by Drake let him know it was Zayn calling and he was just grateful that his boyfriend hadn’t decided to call even five minutes earlier- Niall's professor would’ve shit on him for his phone not being on silent mode. Classes in the Accelerated JD law program were relatively small so you couldn’t hide at the back or feign ignorance when a cellphone started ringing like when he was an undergrad.

He quickly scrambled to answer the call. He’d been waiting to hear from Zayn for hours, since Zayn had left for New York City that morning.

“Babe!” Maybe that came out a bit louder than Niall anticipated, but he was just  _really_  excited to hear how Zayn’s open call at the modeling agency had gone.

“Hey, you. How was school today?”

“Fine, fine,” Niall replied quickly, impatiently. “How was  _your_ day? How did it go?”

“Yeah. About that. I have to stay an extra day...” Niall could actually hear the smile in Zayn’s voice.

“Really? Why? Zayn. C’mon, don’t torture me. How was it?”

Zayn laughed in his ear. “I wanna tell you in person. I’ll be back tomorrow evening, like around 6.”

Niall groaned in  _his_  ear, as he plonked himself down on the grass outside the lecture hall. “You suck so much. Why did you call me if you weren’t gonna tell me? But - it’s good news right?! It has to be!”

“I want to see your face when I tell you. Selfish of me, I know.”

“Can’t believe you won’t tell me. I hate you,” Niall said serenely. He couldn’t stop smiling himself. It _had_  to be good news.

“No you don’t.”

“No. I don’t.” Then a bright idea came to him. “Well, I’ll just ask Harry. I’m sure you told him.”

Zayn said (a little too smugly for Niall’s liking), “I didn’t actually. Nice try though. You’re the only person I’ve called.”

“Have I mentioned you suck.”

“Yep. I have to go, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay...” Then a second later, he pleaded in a rush, “ _C’mon_ , just tell me!”

But Zayn merely laughed at him yet again. “Bye. I love you, Niall.”

Laughing now too Niall said, “Not gonna say it back! Cause you’re being mean. Bye.”

He  _knew_  it was good news, even though he still wanted to hear all the details straight from the horse’s mouth.

Niall wasn’t sure how long he lay there on the campus grass, too happy to get up and too happy to care about the fact that the grass was  _actually really cold_  against his back. He could only imagine what Zayn was feeling right now.

Niall didn’t completely understand why Zayn wanted this so much, why exactly he wanted to model and get into show business so much - but it didn’t matter that he didn’t understand, the only thing that mattered was that Zayn wanted this. So Niall wanted it for him too, just as much as he wanted to pass his bar exam one day and get hired by the best law firm in the area.

Niall contemplated phoning his bastard-tease of a boyfriend back and wheedling the news out of him but he decided against it. Zayn was obviously busy with something, a good something. So Niall picked himself up from the ground, and started his walk to the bus stop on the other side of campus, where the bus would take him to his and Zayn’s shared apartment in downtown Trenton, New Jersey.

They’d been living together for the past year, after what he and Zayn referred to as  _A Series of Unfortunate Events_. Essentially, after Niall had been forced to vacate his upmarket bachelor pad at the insistence of his father.

A year ago, Niall had managed to piss his parents off so much that they’d taken away his car, his apartment and anything vaguely resembling an allowance. Niall had never in his life seen them as angry as that day. They’d furiously told him that the only thing they would continue paying for was his college tuition, and that everything else would be left to him. A  _complete_  overreaction on their part, of course.

After the initial fighting and screaming between Niall and his parents died down, Maura Horan had made Bobby offer Niall a weekend job to get him started. And really, Niall had his pick of things- he could have gone to any one his Dad’s media consultancy offices, or even to the Head Office of the regional fast food chain Bobby had started up years ago. But at that point Niall was so mad, he’d refused.

Instead, he’d gotten a job at a record store near his and Zayn’s apartment. He worked there four times a week, making just enough to meet his half of the rent as well as travel expenses and books for school. The only childhood friend who’d stuck around after Niall’s “descent into poverty” (Zayn’s teasing words, not Niall’s) was Sean. Niall’s group of friends now consisted of people he was going to law school with, his co-workers at the record store, randoms he picked up along the way and Harry.

Anyway, back to the  _Series of Unfortunate Events._ When Niall thinks about it in the years to come, he reckons the first unfortunate event was his Dad’s Audi R8 getting stolen outside a seedy nightclub where Niall and Darragh partied one night just before Christmas. Even before this though, for years his parents had been moaning about Niall’s “lack of respect for money” and blaming themselves for spoiling him and not making him work for anything.

The fact that Niall had taken the Audi without permission didn’t help matters. He felt really bad about it, but what was done was done, surely?? He apologised over and over so he really didn’t know what else his parents wanted him to do.

Shortly after the car incident, Niall came up with the bright idea of throwing a post-New Year’s party at the Horan mansion while his parents went away to Guatemala. (And afterwards Zayn would always remind him how he tried to talk Niall out of it.)

Niall invited all of his college friends to the party, who invited their friends, and so on and so on. Predictably, the house got completely trashed and his Dad was fuming when he saw the damage which included broken windows, smashed antiques and water  _everywhere_  for some reason.

Not long after this (see why they called it a  _series_  of unfortunate events?), he dipped into an investment fund his parents had set up for him that was supposed to go towards his first house or something. But Niall heard about an electric guitar on auction that had once allegedly belonged to Elvis as a kid -  _how cool right!_ \- and that’s where his money went. That was apparently the last straw for Maura and Bobby.

When his parents cut him off and told him that he was going to learn the value of money the hard way, Niall had just begun his last year of his undergraduate degree and he’d been dating Zayn for about 8 months. And the funny thing was that for a month or so before the fight with his parents, Niall had been trying to convince Zayn to move into the bachelor pad. He’d never before felt ready enough to live with any of the other people he’d dated, but it really seemed like the right thing for the two of them.

But Zayn wouldn’t agree to it. Got quite touchy about it in fact. Wouldn’t listen when Niall tried to explain that it made perfect sense for them to move in together: they spent most of their time together at the bachelor pad anyway, didn’t they. From what Niall could deduce Zayn wasn’t at all opposed to them living together, more like he was opposed to  _where_  Niall wanted them to live. 

When Zayn would argue that he couldn’t afford rent in an area like that, Niall would patiently remind him that he himself wasn’t paying rent so Zayn wouldn’t have to either. To which Zayn would heatedly respond that there was no way he was going to live rent-free courtesy of someone else’s parents. Round and round in circles they went, for weeks.

However, the unfortunate events  _quickly_  laid rest to that particular argument. As soon as Niall left his parents’ house after the big blow-up, he found himself at the restaurant where Zayn worked and there, he (a little tearfully, to his own surprise) explained his newly-dire financial situation. Within minutes Zayn was on the phone with Harry making arrangements while a dazed Niall looked on.

So, Niall moved into Zayn and Harry’s tiny downtown apartment a few days later. The three of them lived together for a couple of months until Harry moved in with his own boyfriend, Nate.

Now, Niall was in his first year of the accelerated law program at Trent University, a program which meant that he’d be done with school in two years instead of the normal three years required by most law schools. Niall could easily admit that he did miss the finer things in life. He really missed his car and he really missed being able to eat wherever he wanted. Life was so much harder when you had to count every penny. So much harder.

But generally, he was happy with his lot in life. He was going to be finished with the law program pretty soon and then he could begin his ascent out of poverty. And most importantly, he had Zayn and they were living together like he’d wanted. Living with Zayn wasn't always rainbows and butterflies, to quote a certain song. But as long as they didn't sweat the small stuff and kept on making each other laugh, they made a nice little home for themselves.

...............................

On Friday, the day Zayn was coming back from New York, Niall went to his two morning classes, Contracts and Torts. After that, he raced across town to make it in time for his shift at Wilsons Record Store and there, he kept glancing at the big clock situated above the cashiers, counting the hours until he could see his boyfriend and finally hear what had gone down in New York.

When his shift ended just after 3 o’clock, Niall ran to the grocer across the street to buy milk and then on a whim he splurged on a bouquet of roses. Funny how the word  _splurge_  now meant something totally different than what it used to! Well, at least he still knew how to laugh at himself.

A half hour later, he entered his apartment, planning on watching TV for a bit before getting dinner ready in time for Zayn’s arrival. (He used the term dinner very loosely - the  _only_ decent thing he knew how to make was scrambled eggs and instant pancakes. So yeah, the dinner thing was usually left to Zayn.) But as soon Niall walked into the living room, he nearly dropped the roses and bags in his hand because Zayn himself was lying on the couch. Doing absolutely nothing, apparently just waiting for Niall with the biggest grin on his face.

“I thought you were only getting here at 6!” Niall set his things on the floor and jumped right on top of him, his knees landing somewhere on Zayn’s stomach. It probably hurt, if the momentary wince on Zayn’s face was anything to go by. Niall bent down to kiss him, partly as a way of saying “ _sorry about that_ ” but mostly just to say “ _I’m so frickin happy to see you!”_

Zayn smiled and murmured against his mouth, “Finished earlier than I thought. I wanted to surprise you.”

“Consider me surprised.”

Zayn pulled him down so that they lay torso against torso. He grasped Niall’s hands and tilted upwards to gently suck on his bottom lip. Niall was almost certain that there was something...um, something they were meant to be talking about right around now.

“No! Stop.” he suddenly shouted, sitting up on Zayn’s legs and laughing. “You’re supposed to tell me what happened yesterday. And today.”

Zayn stroked Niall’s palms, a growing smile on his face, his eyes cast sideways.  Just as Niall was about to yell at him to stop tormenting him, Zayn whispered, “I got in.”

“You got in?! You got in!” Niall whooped and accidentally kneed him again, on the thigh this time.

“Ow. You’re a hazard to my health.” Zayn laughed, looking so happy that Niall bent down and squeezed him. “Yeah I got in. The owner of the agency was there at the open call yesterday and she really liked me. So she said I should come back today. And I knew that was a good sign ‘cause there were  _so_  many people in that line but only one girl ahead of me was asked to come back. Today was amazing. They didn’t tell me what to expect beforehand but Lola - that’s the agency head - she got me to do a test shoot.”

"A test shoot?! Wow! - What’s a test shoot?"

“Their people did my hair, put me in the nicest clothes I’ve ever seen. Versace, Niall! Hugo Boss! They had this ginormous room just full of designer clothes!”

One eyebrow rose in response to the look of excitement on Zayn’s face and Niall  _cackled_. “Since when are you such a label whore!”

“What? I’m not!” Zayn flushed a little, but he was laughing too. “Anyway, they did me up from head to toe. Then we did like a mock shoot outside. Went to the rooftop with their in-house photographer guy, and he took pictures and videos to show Lola. He said I’m a natural...Can you believe it?”

“Yeah. I can.” Of course Niall could believe it.

“I guess they all liked what they saw because well, basically... they offered to sign me.” Zayn was trying to seem nonchalant, Niall could tell. But the child-like joy in his voice gave him away, no doubt about it. “One of the scouts said they needed to get me signed before another agency snapped me up...I didn’t really think I should tell them how many of these open calls I’ve been turned down at recently.”

There was a pause as Zayn looked up at Niall with twinkling eyes, before they both burst into breathless laughter, Niall collapsing on top of him again. Niall agreed wheezingly, “Yeah, probably not a good idea to tell them that.”

When they’d calmed down, Zayn sat them up, pulling Niall into his lap and holding him from behind. “I’m going back next week to meet with their lawyers and finally get the damn thing signed... Will you come with me?”

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for anything. I’m really happy for you, Zayn.” Happy didn’t even describe it though. Today was the best day ever.

Zayn pressed a soft kiss on the nape of his neck and lingered there. “Thank you, angelface.”

Jesus, that little kiss felt really good...“You know what? I think all this calls for celebration sex.”

Zayn lifted his lips away to snort. “Celebration sex?”

“Yeah. Like birthday sex? Except for when celebrations are in order.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever heard the term.” Zayn laughed even more when Niall twisted around to punch him in the arm. "Ow! Niall, I was kidding."

“I was trying to make it a bit romantic but since you wanna get so technical about everything...I'm horny, I'm happy and I wanna fuck. But if you don’t want to just say so.” Niall began to grind down into Zayn’s lap, ever so slightly but very deliberately for a good few moments - then abruptly he stood up and moved away from the couch, laughing when Zayn made a low noise of protest.

“Wait just a second...” Zayn lunged and clutched him around the waist before he could get very far. “I never said I didn’t want to.”

Niall sat back down, facing him this time and straddling him. He smiled at his glowing boyfriend for a moment before leaning forward to whisper, "Yep. That’s what I thought.”

..................................

They travelled to New York City the following Wednesday, where the agency put them up in a deluxe suite at the Regency Hotel.  _Oh yeah_ , Niall thought as he flopped backwards onto the fluffy king-size bed.  _This is what the good life is like, I’d almost forgotten_. It was all paid for by the agency so they made the most of it, ordering room service at least 3 times and watching movies on pay-per-view all night.

On Thursday morning, they met with Portfolio Inc’s lawyers and the agent that had been assigned to Zayn, a young guy in a flashy suit named Miles. Niall didn't really care about the indifferent disinterested glance Miles gave him when they were introduced, but he definitely didn't like the way Miles didn't ask Zayn's opinion on anything throughout the entire meeting.

But Niall paid very close attention and everything discussed seemed to be in order, legally speaking. Neither Niall or Zayn could quite breathe until the contract was finally signed. When it was, they shared a wide-eyed look of glee over the lawyers’ heads.

When they got back to their hotel room that night after a day of sight-seeing, they were still filled with a sort of fervent energy despite having walked around New York City most of the day. They walked into the room and threw themselves onto that beautiful comfortable bed (seriously, Niall never wanted to leave it), and Zayn reached for him and slid a hand under the back about his shirt, asking, “So... that celebration sex thing..."

“Yes! Definitely in order today.”

It was certainly one way of getting rid of all that pent-up energy. They couldn't get enough of each other, touch enough, kiss enough; and they didn't quite know what it was about this city, this day.

In between frantic kisses, they tore off their clothes; shirts and pants landing on lamps and on the far side of the spacious room. That night they didn't stop until they ached all over and their bodies were begging for mercy and rest. As Niall pushed inside him over and over, he heard a voice he vaguely recognised as his own saying things like, " _Fuck_. Zayn. I love you."

But at least his words were coherent, he couldn't make out what the hell Zayn was mumbling when he hooked his legs over Niall's shoulders and weakly flung an arm over his shut eyes. The second time around was more languid, slower, Zayn steadily torturing Niall as he fucked down into him for what seemed like  _hours_ , ecstasy-filled hours, their lips rarely breaking apart, their bodies rising and falling in-sync.

When they'd used up every last ounce of strength they had, they collapsed next to each other, waiting to let the sound of the other's breathing lull them to sleep.

"Best day ever. Thank you for being here with me." Zayn's voice sounded absolutely wrecked and Niall knew it wouldn't be long before he passed out.

“Yeah. Everybody was really nice...um, well except for that Miles guy...I’m not sure about him.” Niall had been thinking about how to bring this up since they'd left the lawyers' offices and he figured now was as good a time as any.

The hand that had been lazily stroking Niall’s waist stilled and Zayn looked across at Niall in surprise. “Miles? My agent? Why do you say that?”

That was a question Niall had been expecting but didn’t really know how to answer. But he tried to put his misgivings into words. “I don’t know exactly. There’s something  _off_  about him. He seemed kinda smarmy, don’t you think? Just a tad bit slimy?”

Zayn seemed to think about it for a few moments before he eventually shrugged tiredly. “Um, he seemed okay to me? A bit into himself, I guess?”

It was more than that, though. Yes Miles was extraordinarily into himself, even for someone working at a modeling agency. But there was something about him which really rubbed Niall the wrong way. Niall had always had good instincts, he prided himself on being really intuitive about people. And the vibe he got off of this Miles guy just didn’t feel right. He wondered to himself if was possible for Zayn to get another agent.

But he didn’t voice that thought - he knew he didn’t have anything concrete to base it on. And besides, the two of them had had a great day, were stuffed full with great food and were completely fucked out. Why ruin it with thoughts of someone who probably wouldn't matter all that much at the end of the day? 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to the present in this chapter!

 

“I don’t even know why I’m inviting you, Niall. I asked you for  _one_  simple thing and you didn’t do it.”

An entire three weeks after the Portfolio Inc luncheon they’d gone to together, Louis was still sulking because Niall had forgotten to ask Harry if he was single, had forgotten to find out if there was any chance of Harry being open to the idea of making curly-haired blue-eyed feisty gaybies with Louis.

And even though Niall had offered afterwards to get Harry’s number from Liam or something, Louis flip flopped over whether it was a good idea. His response the first time Niall offered was, “Yes please! Redeem yourself.” An hour later, Niall had already put the matter from his mind and was therefore confused for a moment about what Louis was referring to when he blurted out in the middle of dinner, “Actually, no don’t. What on earth would I say?! I have no idea what to say.”

(Niall had never - no really,  _never_  - known Louis to be at a loss for words. So he’d patted Lou’s back in what he hoped was a reassuring manner and turned his attention back to the roast-beef sandwich he’d lovingly made for himself a few minutes earlier.)

It wasn’t like Niall was itching for his former friend and now-closest friend to get together. It would only complicate a situation that was already becoming increasingly and annoyingly messy. Louis and Harry being in the same room in the first place had been weird enough - it was a nasty reminder to Niall that his past existed and he couldn’t pretend it didn’t just by not talking about it.

When Zayn came back from his shoot in Thailand a week after Louis and Niall’s outing to New York, Niall had been annoyed to read what he wrote at the bottom of one of his many work-related emails:

_I heard you went to that Portfolio thing. Harry and Liam said they saw you and you guys talked for a while. Did you have a good time? It kinda reminded me how much fun you and me used to have at those things, making fun of snooty uptight jackasses. Remember_

Yes, Niall remembered. Which was why he hadn’t wanted to go to the  _Portfolio thing_  in the first place.

He completely ignored Zayn’s little trip down memory lane; his response email was strictly business.

Now, on a hot mid-August Sunday morning a couple of weeks later, Niall was on the phone with Louis who was pondering why he was even bothering to invite Niall to his apartment for one of his legendary Sunday lunches, when Niall hadn’t been bothered to do one little favour for him.

“Because you adore me and because nobody else lavishes you and your food with compliments quite like I do,” was Niall’s response to these ponderings.

“You’re right. And for that, I hate you. I’m only half-way to forgiving you for the Harry thing.”

Niall was genuinely puzzled as to why Louis found the thought of talking to Harry so daunting. As in, he really didn’t get it - it was just Harry. The weird thing was that, at the Portfolio event weeks ago Louis had really hit it off with two of the other guests. A Ghanaian runway model named Abena and a prominent young actor named Luke. In fact the three of them had hit it off so much that Abena and Luke were also going to be at Louis’ lunch apparently.

This fast three-way friendship had formed in the ten minutes or so after Louis had sauntered off, leaving Niall with Harry so that they could talk. Louis was someone with the uncanny ability to become bosom buddies with everyone from five year old little girls to beggars in mere seconds...So for him to be intimidated by harmless Harry Styles was really odd to Niall.

Louis didn’t host these lunches every weekend but when he did, Niall was the first one at his door. An earthquake couldn’t keep him away. Louis always went all out: juicy chicken with crispy skin and stuffing, tender cuts of beef cooked to perfection, roast seasonal veggies, creamy mashed potatoes. It was a nice change from the frozen pizzas and take-out Niall lived on throughout the rest of the week.

After getting off the phone with Louis, Niall half-heartedly spent the morning cleaning his own apartment. It was a decent-sized place and he was really proud of it. It came with two big bedrooms, a nice bathroom and modern kitchen, and best of all a great view overlooking the Delaware River. He’d learned somewhere along the way that he didn’t actually  _need_  a huge over-the-top house. The only things he still really splurged on were the multiple high-tech electronics in his living room, but those were a fundamental need of man if you asked him. And sneakers. Those were fundamental too.

He really hated cleaning but it had to be done. Years ago when his parents had stopped giving him his generous monthly allowance and he’d moved in with Zayn, he had been forced to quickly learn how to operate a vacuum machine, wash dishes, put clothes in the washer. (Unfortunately, the cooking thing never did quite work out.)

When his apartment looked somewhat clean, he jumped into the shower and an hour later was eagerly knocking on the door of Louis’ apartment in West Trenton. Louis’ building was considerably bigger and more exclusive than Niall’s, which was why his apartment was so perfect for hosting. Louis opened the door in a Spiderman apron, brandishing a wooden spoon covered in red sauce. He exclaimed, “And here I thought that for once you wouldn’t be the first one to get here!”

Niall laughed and let himself in. “The best predictor of future behaviour is past behaviour, Lou. And here  _I_  thought you were smart enough to know that.”

After asking if he could help with anything in the kitchen (Louis thankfully declined), Niall started setting up placemats around Louis’ oak dining room table. “How many people are coming?”

Louis shouted from the kitchen, “You, my neighbour, me, Candice, Abena and Luke! So that’s six. Oh and Abena asked if she could bring someone but it didn’t really seem like a definite thing. Her boyfriend or something, probably. So make it seven just to be on the safe side!”

Niall went to work setting up the arrangement of plates, cutlery and glasses around the table, with a sort of military-neat precision. When he stepped back to take a look at it all, he smiled because his mother would be proud that all her efforts at refining Niall in his early years hadn’t gone to complete waste.

The first person to arrive was Louis’ neighbour, a grouchy old widower named Mr Carmichael who Louis always invited to these afternoons. But despite his general surliness, the old man and Niall got on like a house on fire, with the widower being known to say grudgingly, “You’re not too bad, kid. Not like the rest of these rascals I meet around here nowadays.”

Thirty minutes later, the doorbell rang again. Niall was in the middle of a fat chat with Mr Carmichael about Elvis and the Beatles and a Woodstock Festival the old man had gone to years ago. But he dutifully sprang up at the sound of the bell and went to open the door. He found three people standing before him. The strikingly beautiful black girl with a shaved head was Abena obviously. Then there was a blonde dude Niall immediately recognised as the lead actor in a big-budget disaster movie opposite Bruce Willis which was currently playing in cinemas - so this would be Luke. Then, just behind Luke was -  _what the hell_ \- Zayn.  _Well, fuck._

Zayn stared back at him with a look of such blatant unconcealed shock, it was almost funny.

“What...” Zayn didn’t seem to be able to complete his sentence. A split second later, he seemed to pull it together and his facial expression became void of any emotion. He turned his gaze from Niall towards Abena. “Are we at the right door? I thought you said the guy’s name was Louis.”

Abena shrugged in confusion but before she could say anything, Louis’ voice sounded from a few steps behind Niall, “I’m Louis! You’re at the right place. Come in guys.” The guests did just that and Niall watched Louis’ face intently, trying to figure out if he was in on this. But when Louis’ attention finally reached Zayn after he was done fussing excitedly over Abena and Luke, his mouth gaped open and his head shot towards Niall before rapidly turning back to Zayn.

Louis then moved from Luke’s side to stand right in front of Niall’s ex, obviously wanting to take a closer inspection. Eventually he said, “Huh? But you’re Zayn.  _You’re_  Abena’s boyfriend?”

Abena laughed uproariously from where she was now seated next to Mr Carmichael on one of the white couches, laughing so hard that she had to lean on the old man, startling them all in the process. Zayn glared at her before muttering, “Thanks, Abi. Nice to know the idea of dating me is so hilarious.”

“Aw babe, it’s not that. It’s just that it’s never even occurred to me.” To Louis, Abena said in between giggles, “I love Zayn to death. But oh my gosh,  _not_  in that way - let’s just say I’m not his type. What made you think he’s my boyfriend?”

Louis pondered for a moment, the slightest tinge of red on his cheeks. “I don’t really know. I assumed when you said you were bringing someone you meant...like, a significant other.”

Abena snorted, earning herself another look from Zayn. When she could finally contain her laughter she explained, “We’re just good friends. Modeling buddies. We met at the agency my first day there a few months ago. What can I say, he was the only other model there that day who didn’t make me want to stab them with a blunt pencil. I’ve since learned there’s a few more good ones in the business, but I still keep him around.” She blew Zayn a kiss from across the room, at which he merely rolled his eyes.

Niall watched all of this going on in complete stupefied silence. He watched Louis explain how he and Niall knew each other and he watched Zayn slowly nod. Niall briefly considered whether bailing on this little get-together was a viable option. But Louis was  _his_  friend, not Zayn’s, and this was  _his_  friend’s apartment so he wasn’t about to allow Zayn to make him feel like he needed to leave. And besides there was no way Niall was going to miss Sunday roast. He could already smell all the deliciousness wafting through the air.

Louis was recovered from his surprise at this point, if the wicked grin he gave Niall was anything to go by. When he brushed against Niall on his way to the kitchen, he whispered, “This is brilliant! You can’t make this stuff up.”

A few minutes later the last to arrive at the gathering was Louis’ and Niall’s co-worker, Candice. When she entered the living room and spotted Zayn in an armchair, she startled much like Louis had and fumbled over her hello’s, but she recovered quite admirably. But seconds after this when Luke,  _famous actor_  Luke, walked into the room on his way back from the bathroom - the poor girl looked like she was about to pass out. Niall knew the feeling, albeit for different reasons.

Louis led them all to his cosy dining room opposite the kitchen and they settled in their places: Niall in between Luke and Louis on one side of the table; Mr Carmichael at the head of the table; Abena, Zayn and Candice on the other side.

Much to Niall’s surprise, the atmosphere of the afternoon was not nearly as awkward as he would have predicted. The food was delicious and the other guests were lively and hilarious, even Mr Carmichael after he’d gotten a few glasses of wine into himself. The only person who was noticeably mute was himself. And Zayn. But throughout the time they’d dated, Niall had known Zayn to sometimes go quiet on some days. And it wasn’t that Zayn would necessarily be tense or in a bad mood, just quiet.  _Pensive_  would be a better word. So maybe today was one of those times. Not that Niall cared, of course.

However, he could almost swear that Zayn kept glancing at Luke with unwarranted malice every few minutes or so. Not that Niall cared enough to wonder about it, of course.

“Niall, can you help me get dessert from the kitchen?” Louis enquired sweetly, standing up from the table as soon as everybody’s plates were practically licked clean.

“Um...Sure?” Niall was rightfully confused because Louis usually asked Candice to help him. Louis had banned Niall from his kitchen months ago, for reasons better not specified. Let’s just say, Louis’ kitchen ceiling never looked quite the same again.

“Bring some more of that wine with you, kid!” Mr Carmichael in his impeccable grey suit and black bow-tie, was blotchy-faced at this point and having a complete ball of a time with Abena. Niall tried not to feel a little jealous.

When he and Louis were well into the kitchen, Niall located a delectable-looking homemade chocolate cake on top of the marble counter. He reached for it, about to carry it into the dining room. But Louis smacked his hands away - “You’re not allowed to touch anything in my kitchen until it reaches your plate, you know the rules.”

“So why the hell did you bring me in here then?”

Louis smiled in a way which was worrying to Niall. “Because you’ve been daydreaming all afternoon so I’m quite sure you haven’t noticed what I noticed...Namely that Luke Hemmings totally wants your dick!”

Niall gaped at him. “Shhh! Um.  _What_?” He laughed nervously, not quite sure he wanted Louis to repeat himself.

“He wants you, dude. How the fuck do you keep bagging all these hot men? Teach me your ways, master.”

Niall was really not following here. Louis had  _obviously_ finally lost his mind, just as Niall always feared he would. “Luke and me barely exchanged three words. What makes you think he’s into me?”

“You’re kinda dense sometimes, you know that? You guys barely talked, but only because you’ve been responding to Luke’s multiple attempts with one-word answers all afternoon.” Louis was talking but because he was poking his head around in the bottom drawer of the freezer, his hovering ass was what Niall was engaging with. “Niall, he dished out your food for you. Nobody else got such special treatment. It was every man for himself for the rest of us. And he kept refilling your Coke. Like it was his life’s mission to make sure you didn’t get even slightly thirsty.”

 _Oh_?

Louis finally located what he was looking for and he uprighted himself. Precariously balancing the cake and a tub of vanilla ice-cream in his arms, his last parting shot as he left standing Niall in the kitchen was, “You didn’t notice any of this because you and your ex were too busy pretending not to stare at each other.”

Niall trailed after him, his muddled brain only managing to produce one response. “What...”

When he sat back down at the table, Louis was already cutting into the cake much to Candice’s uncontained delight; she lived for Louis’ chocolate cake. Luke turned to Niall with a really big really cute smile. He was quite good-looking, Niall realised belatedly. Luke reached for Niall’s dessert plate. “Here, let me get your slice for you, the cake’s closer to me. Do you want it with ice-cream? You’re in really good shape though so I’m guessing you don’t?”

Zayn coughed right then causing everyone to look his way and he mumbled what was probably his third sentence of the entire afternoon, “You guessed wrong.” A little louder he said, “And since you’re so kindly offering to get cake for people, I take mine with ice-cream too. Thanks.”

Louis failed in his attempt to cover his laugh with his napkin, though he really tried. The other guests were way too drunk to notice anything strange going on. The only sober people appeared to be Zayn, Luke and Niall. Abena and Candice handed their dessert plates over to Luke, with wide smiles that were completely sloshed but completely innocent. Louis, obviously taking pity on his new friend, helped Luke slide portions of cake and spoonfuls of ice-cream onto everyone’s plates.

Niall was grateful when the lunch ended. He’d felt increasingly uncomfortable throughout dessert with Luke next to him asking him questions about himself,  _where do you work_ ,  _what do you like to do_. He hadn’t felt uncomfortable because of Luke though. Luke was really nice actually; Niall discovered this as soon as he made the deliberate effort to talk to Luke in more than mono-syllables. What did make Niall uncomfortable was Zayn’s presence across the table, even though Zayn was decidedly ignoring him now and was laughing up a storm with Candice and Louis by the time dessert was over.

Niall was kind of expecting it when Luke cornered him in the living room and asked for his number just before he, Abena and Zayn left to catch a cab. “We could hang out sometime. I’m shooting a movie in New York for the next month or so. So I don’t have to go back to L.A. for quite a while...”

Mostly because everybody was eavesdropping and watching them at this point and also because there was nothing wrong with giving cute nice guys your number, Niall dialled his number into Luke’s phone. When he was done putting it in, he looked up and was met with Zayn’s eyes just behind Luke. Zayn raised a sardonic taunting eyebrow before looking away. He then linked arms with the very giddy Abena beside him and pulled her towards the front door, thanking Louis just before they disappeared from sight. And then they were gone and all Niall could do was blink.

All he’d wanted when he woke up that morning was a nice Sunday lunch.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> flashback = **bold**

 

 _Date. Dating._ Curiously, Niall repeated the words over and over in his head as he contemplated a text he’d gotten from Luke. These days,  _dating_  was basically a foreign concept to him. He hadn’t really done it in ages. And he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to do it now.

And that’s not to say that he’d been living like a celibate monk this past year. But life was considerably easier now that he wasn’t letting something as lame as feelings/love/giving-a-damn-about-someone, get tangled up in the most basic and instinctual activity known to man. Sex was sex. And Niall was a big fan of it. A date on the other hand, that was another matter altogether.

It had been a week and a half since that  _fucking weird_  lunch at Louis’ apartment. Niall and Luke had been exchanging occasional texts in that time but this latest text was talking about spending the day in NYC together and getting dinner maybe.

On the other hand, during the week and a half, Niall hadn’t heard from Zayn even once. Which was a bit strange because they’d been in regular contact lately, albeit for work purposes.  This sudden silence felt a lot like Zayn was avoiding him. Which was exactly what Niall had been after all along. But still. It was strange.

Liam had called on Monday, the day after Louis’ get-together, to say that Zayn wished to cancel their Friday meeting. The same Friday meeting that Zayn had been so insistent on having. When Zayn had requested this meeting in the first place, he’d said that there were things he really needed to talk to Niall about, things they’d gone for too long without talking about. He’d been super adamant about it all. But apparently, now this talk was no longer necessary.

“Just got a text from Luke,” Niall announced to Louis who was seated across from him at the long table with his head was buried in a thick pile of bound papers. The two of them were in the firm’s library, Louis working on research and Niall reading up on general entertainment law.

A client of the firm was being sued by their former employer, a large multi-national corporation; and Louis was heading the background research into the case which basically involved thoroughly going over every single detail of the corporation’s human-resource management structures, from the inception of the company to date. There was alot of work to be done, so for once Louis was mostly quiet.

He looked up fleetingly, his eyes glazed over and red. “Huh? What’d you say, bud?”

“I said Luke texted me. He asked me out on a date. It’s his birthday on Saturday and he says he thinks it would be fun if we did something. Lunch together. And a party the cast and crew are throwing for him.”

Niall thought that Louis would be excited at this news but instead he only looked wary, biting his pen in contemplation.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Niall asked a bit apprehensively.

Louis seemed to think long about what to say next. He blew out a long puff of air and finally said, “Luke is a good guy, I like him. And you know I love you, no homo - even though we’re both homo -“Louis stopped for a moment to cackle at his own joke before getting serious again. “But look, I don’t want you to string him along or get his hopes up if you’re not really into him. Rather be honest with him.”

“Who says I’m not into him? Maybe I am. Or y’know, maybe I could be after getting to know him more. Who knows!”

But Louis shook his head. “I don’t think you are. And I don’t think you will be anytime soon. You’re gonna bite my head off for saying this but I’m gonna say it anyway - you’re still hung up on your ex. And Luke doesn’t deserve that. At least be upfront with him.”

Niall roughly slammed the book he’d been reading shut. Louis was right about one thing, Niall  _did_  want to chew his head off in that moment. “Are you seriously talking about Zayn?! I’m over him! Jesus. What do I have to do to prove it to everyone? That’s been over for more than a year!”

“It being over and you being over him are two completely different things. And I don’t think one of those things is actually the truth, no matter how much you want it to be.”

“I’m going to kindly ask you to shut up now. You have no idea what you’re talking about. If you did, you’d know I’ve moved on and I wouldn’t ever go back to all that, to him, even if you paid me a gazillion dollars.”

Louis stood up to go refill his cup at the coffee machine a little ways ahead of their table. As he stirred sugar into his cup, he said tranquilly, “I don’t know what the fuck happened between you two. I don’t know because you won’t tell me. But I watched the two of you at my apartment that day and yeah, you could cut the tension with a knife - but there wasn’t anything ‘over’ about it.”

“Again. Shut up. You really don’t know.”

Louis shrugged. Just before he turned his attention back to his papers he said, “Maybe I don’t. But just think about what you really want before you jump into anything.”

Niall was totally over Zayn. Like, completely over him.  _Dating_  was starting to look like a good idea more and more now - maybe this way he could prove to his friends and family that he’d moved on, and maybe they’d all finally get off his case.

Niall made up his mind right then and there - he was 95% sure at this point he was going to say yes to Luke.

But the fact that Niall’s potential/maybe/probable date was going to fall on Luke’s birthday, unfortunately but unsurprisingly brought back memories of the last birthday he’d celebrated with someone he’d been dating. It wasn't a bad memory per se, just unwanted.

Zayn’s birthday, about three months after he got signed with Portfolio, had been ...interesting. That was one way of describing it.

.....................................

**Zayn's birthday was coming up and Niall was well aware that Zayn wasn’t into big celebrations where everybody fussed over him and where he’d have to be social for many consecutive hours. But Niall still wanted to do something, just the two of them maybe.**

**In the end, he decided that he was going to cook a full course dinner from scratch and afterwards they’d have sex however and wherever Zayn wanted. Preferably all night. That way, Niall figured even if he screwed up dinner (probability = high), he would still be able to salvage things and give Zayn a night he wouldn’t forget any time soon.**

**But the dinner thing was going to be a problem. Obviously. Because that sort of thing requires someone who knows how to cook. Niall wisely enlisted the assistance of Harry, having to promise to go watch Harry’s band’s next five shows as repayment. Harry helped him shop for all the ingredients the day before. Harry also stayed on the phone with Niall for hours on the actual day, talking him through every single step of each recipe.**

**The two of them had decided that it probably wasn’t best to be overly ambitious - so the menu was just going to be mushroom soup followed by spaghetti bolognaise and potato salad followed by good old fashioned store bought ice-cream and brownies.**

**Zayn left their apartment really early that morning, even before Niall woke up, to go shoot for a 4 page fashion spread in GQ Magazine in some warehouse in Brooklyn. But Niall woke up to a text saying that the shoot would be over by 6 that evening and that Zayn would be home by 7. Which thankfully gave Niall plenty of time to get cooking.**

**Throughout the day he had to throw out two batches of the mushroom soup before he finally made something that tasted okay. (He reckoned Harry should have been clearer with his instructions when he told Niall over the phone, “While it’s simmering add some salt and pepper to taste.” Which Niall did, about a cup of salt and a handful of peppercorns.)**

**And then he unfortunately let the spaghetti cook for too long, turning it into a pot of mush.  So he had to start that over again. At one point, as he diced yet another onion, he felt like crying for more than one reason.**

**At a quarter to seven, he finally had an edible meal keeping warm in the oven and he rushed to shower away ground beef, mushrooms and onion juice from what seemed to be every bare inch of his skin. Then he dressed in a cream-coloured shirt and the tight blue jeans Zayn always said made him want to rip them off Niall’s body and ravage him.**

**He haphazardly threw red rose petals onto their bed, rolling his eyes in the process. (He thought the petals were kinda really cheesy... _too_  cheesy maybe, but Harry had insisted that Zayn would totally go for it.) Niall refrained from asking  _how_  Harry knew Zayn would like it - Zayn and Harry had hooked up a few times during their teen years, something Niall discovered during a juvenile drunken game of Truth or Dare.  Harry fucking Zayn, even though it happened years ago (and even though it had been terribly awkward and fumbled according to both parties), was still definitely something Niall preferred not to think about.**

**Everything was set - dinner was ready - and Niall was more than ready for birthday sex, he was so freaking _horny_. Now all he had to do was wait for Zayn.**

**And wait he did. And wait and wait and wait.**

**Hours later, he’d called everybody he could think of who Zayn might be with and was very nearly about to call the police when the lock in the door twisted and Zayn sauntered in, his eyes lighting up as he spotted Niall striding towards him.**

**Niall nearly sagged to the floor in relief. “Zayn! Oh my God! You’re okay! Where the hell have you been?” He knew he probably looked and sounded like a mad man, but he didn’t care.**

**Zayn subsequent fit of giggles was interrupted only by a hiccup. Niall glared at him, not quite believing the sight in front of him. _The bastard was tipsy._ Zayn walked further into the living room and pulled him in roughly, hugging him, totally oblivious to the iciness Niall was emitting towards him. “Hi, honey! Um, we went for a drink. Or two.  After the shoot. But I left early because I was missing you. I missed you. I miss you.” He giggled some more.  _Totally tipsy._**

**Niall pushed him away and Zayn stumbled a little, his eyes becoming round with surprise a few seconds later than would have been the case if he were sober. Niall sputtered angrily, “Early? You call this early? It’s half past 10. The day’s nearly over. I can’t believe you!”**

**Finally Zayn seemed to pick up on the fact that all was not well. And like he always did when he felt he was under attack, he became defensive. “Huh? It's my birthday. I went out for a few drinks. What is the big deal?”**

**Niall loved Zayn, really, he did. But sometimes the guy was such an _idiot_. “Exactly, it’s your birthday. And I’m your boyfriend! Even if it didn’t occur to you that I might have planned something for my boyfriend’s birthday, I find it odd that you didn’t at least think to invite me out to join in the fucking festivities.”**

**Zayn shrugged casually and it was obvious he thought that Niall was totally overreacting. Slurring ever so slightly in a manner that probably nobody other than Niall would be able to pick up on, “It wasn’t a planned thing! It’s not like we had this huge big party without you. We literally walked to the bar across the street and Miles bought everyone drinks. Then someone else got the next round. After that I guess I lost track of time...”**

**“Maybe if you’d kept your phone switched on, you would’ve kept better track of time,” Niall responded tersely. He went to sit down on the couch, realising it was probably best for everyone involved if there was some physical distance between the two of them.**

**“My battery died, okay. I forgot to ask the assistant to charge it for me during the shoot.” Zayn threw his hands up in the air in apparent exasperation. “I really can’t believe you are giving me shit over this, today of all days. Just chill out, let it go.”**

**“Let it go? I’ve been sitting here for hours, pretty much convinced that something terrible happened to you. Your phone was off, none of our friends knew where you were. And I thought to myself _it’s his birthday but there’s no way he’s out at a party or a club - without any of his friends or his boyfriend._ So the only logical explanation I could think of was that you were hurt or in trouble somewhere. I was going out of my mind. And all you can say is let it go?” Niall’s voice was deceptively soft and calm, and it only got that way when he was really angry and was using all his willpower not to scream.**

**In the silence that followed, Zayn rubbed a hand over his face and went to sit beside Niall on the couch, very gingerly. Eventually he said, “Look, I didn’t mean to worry you. But...you’re being a little dramatic, don’t you think?”**

**Niall had been looking straight ahead at the turned off TV but now his head whipped to the side and he stared at Zayn in disbelief. “Are you actually being serious right now? I’m being dramatic for giving a fuck about you?”**

**“No. You’re being dramatic for assuming the worst. I was only at the bar for a few hours. Why immediately assume I’m lying in a ditch somewhere? - The photographer today was an impossible asshole. Miles just thought that we could all do with some unwinding after the shoot.” He shrugged again and rubbed his eyes tiredly.**

**Niall stiffened beside him. “Do not bring up that name right now. Just don’t. You’re only pissing me off even more.”**

**“For fuck's sake. What is your problem with Miles, Niall? I really don’t get it. He’s never done anything to you or to me.” Zayn rolled his eyes and that was really the last straw.**

**Before he even knew what he was doing, Niall was jabbing a finger into Zayn’s chest, over and over with each syllable he spoke. “Let’s start with the fact that he knew very well I wanted to make dinner for you tonight. He was right there when me and Harry were talking about it at your last shoot. He even managed to throw in a snide remark about how he was sure you would prefer dinner at a nice restaurant rather than something I made for you -“**

**Zayn interrupted with a laugh that Niall found to be very annoying and condescending. And Niall was annoyed even more when Zayn said, “Babe, Miles is a kidder. I’m sure he was just playing around.”**

**Niall wished he could shake Zayn or something. Or throw an object at his head that would hurt but not cause any permanent damage. “That guy is the shadiest of shady people. You don’t see a problem with the fact that he knew I was planning something but he dragged you to a bar instead? If you can’t see he’s a snake, you’re a fucking dumbass! You’re just as stupid as he is shady!”**

**And just like that, a switch went off in Zayn. His eyes narrowed and he shifted away from Niall on the couch, his face rapidly darkening in a matter of seconds. Before this moment, he’d been merely annoyed.**

**Now, he was full-on pissed. His voice was terse and clipped when he spat out, “ _Don’t_ call me stupid! I’m getting really sick and tired of you calling me an idiot, calling me stupid, every single time we have a fight.”**

**But Niall was not moved by this sudden outburst of emotion. He crossed his arms, leaning back on the couch, and he muttered, “Well if you’re gonna act stupid, I’m gonna call you stupid.”**

**“Then I guess I should call you a fucking jackass! You think you’re so smart, so much better than everyone else. Just because I didn’t go to private schools and fancy law school like you, doesn’t make me dumb.”**

**“What?” Niall gaped at him. “What the _fuck_  are you talking about, Zayn? When have I ever said anything remotely close to that! What does where we went to school have to do with any of this? Typical! Totally twisting my words to make me look like the bad guy.”**

**“I’m not twisting anything. I don’t have to. Your words speak for themselves. You think your boyfriend’s just some dumb model right?” Zayn’s chest was heaving at this point.**

**“You. Are. Nuts. You’re literally fucking insane! You weren’t even a model when you became my boyfriend.”**

**“You’re completely missing the point.”**

**“No I’m not. I’m not missing anything - “**

**“- Oh yeah, that’s right. Cos you’re so clever. It’s a small wonder you even put up with stupid people like me.” Words dripping with caustic sarcasm.**

**Shaking his head, Niall stood up abruptly from the couch, almost tripping in his haste. “I can’t deal with you right now. When you decide to stop whining like a fucking pussy, let me know.”**

**"We’re not done here! Where are you going?” Zayn stayed seated but he grabbed onto Niall’s wrists to keep him from moving further away.**

**The tension in the room was heady, palpable. And Niall knew that they were both minutes away from turning this mere argument into something they’d both regret. He twisted free from Zayn’s grasp. “Let go! If I stay here, I have a feeling I’m gonna say alot of things I’ll have to apologise for later. I’m going to go get ready for bed.” And with that, Niall stalked towards their bedroom, his movements jerky and rapid. He halted mid-way though. He paused there in the hallway, then turned around, came back and stood in front of Zayn on the couch. Zayn drew up a little straighter, obviously preparing to defend himself against whatever Niall was about to throw his way.**

**But Niall only looked at him for a moment with serious eyes and then bent down to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. “Happy birthday, for what it’s worth.”**

**He walked back towards their bedroom and in there he sat on the edge of the bed for a while, wondering what to do next - he didn’t want to go back into the living room but he also definitely wasn’t going to be able to sleep right then. A shower. Yeah, another shower was what he needed - he could be alone plus the hot water would hopefully go a long way in helping him relax.**

**He’d barely been inside the shower for 2 minutes though, only just starting to wash his arms and shoulders with the water as hot as he could stand it, when the bathroom door creaked open. Then the shower door slid open.**

**“Who said you could get in with me?” But all the adrenaline and fire Niall had been feeling in the living room were gone, and now he just felt very tired. And sad.**

**“I want to talk.” Zayn sounded slightly hesitant, but mostly determined. His words were also without the heat they had been carrying just minutes earlier.**

**“I’m kinda busy right now, Zayn.” Niall was facing away from him but he could sense Zayn directly behind his own body. They weren’t quite touching but it was close enough.**

**“You can multi-task. Let’s not fight. Okay? Can we just talk about this?”**

**When Niall didn’t respond, Zayn sighed and wrapped an arm around his chest from behind, leaning his forehead against the back of Niall’s head as he said softly, “I hate it when you’re mad at me.” He took the shower sponge out of Niall’s hand and proceeded to carefully wash his back for him, running the sponge along the skin in slow steady circles.**

**That felt nice, really good actually. Niall felt some of the stiffness leaving his body as he relaxed for the first time in hours. He closed his eyes and murmured, “What are we even doing? I don’t want to fight with you on your birthday.”**

**Tentatively, Zayn tried for a joke, “So any other day, you’d be happy to fight with me?”**

**The shower sponge was dipping a lot lower on Niall’s back now and he did not mind in the least. Having Zayn wash his body was one of Niall’s favourite things in the world, ever. Definitely in the Top 3, if anybody were to ask him to be more specific.**

**In response to Zayn’s half-hearted joke he said, “No. But today was meant to be this amazing happy day and now it’s completely shit.”**

**“Yeah, it kinda is.” Zayn laughed a little. “Part of it was spent with randoms I barely know and the other part I was yelling and being yelled at." Zayn's hand stilled. "Niall, please turn around. You have a nice back and all... and a really nice butt, but I’d prefer to talk to your face.”**

**Niall complied, turning around to meet Zayn’s earnest gaze a couple of inches away. For a second he couldn’t remember why they were meant to be mad at each other. Zayn grabbed some of the watermelon-scented body wash on the mini-shelf above them, squeezed the contents liberally into the sponge and went to work on Niall’s chest.**

**His eyes never left Niall’s face, and between that and the water dripping down Niall's face, Niall felt a little bit like he was drowning. Not in a bad way.**

**They stood under the water in silence for some minutes, taking turns to wash each other, taking their time. The mood was still somber and still a little tense, but at least the two of them were calmer now. As Zayn washed Niall’s hair languidly, with sure steady fingers that massaged his scalp, the blonde was pretty sure he heard himself moaning once or twice. Niall was just about to throw caution to the wind and kiss his goddamn sexy boyfriend when Zayn blurted out, “I ruined your plans for tonight, didn’t I. I’m sorry for making you worry.”**

**Niall tore his eyes away from the enticing plumpness of Zayn’s bottom lip and looked at him directly, nodding. “Yeah, that was the worst part. I didn’t know if you were okay.” His hands had found their way to Zayn’s hips and were gently squeezing and releasing the flesh there.**

**“It was a shitty thing for me to do. Again, I’m sorry. I should’ve known you were probably waiting for me... I’m not big on birthdays, it’s sorta just another day to me, you know that. But I forgot that not everyone sees it like that. Stupid of me.”**

**Niall felt really guilty at those last words. He shook his head and stilled Zayn’s hand on his chest, covering it with his own. “That’s another thing. I don’t think you’re stupid, Zayn. That’s not what I meant. You’re, like, crazy smart. I mean c’mon, you read Tolstoy and James Joyce for _fun_. I just think sometimes you don’t see people for what they are and that leaves room for them to take advantage of you.”**

**Zayn’s face softened. He gave Niall a delicate peck on the nose and then another slower one on the lips. He drew back and said, “Nobody’s taking advantage of me. You don’t have to worry. But I appreciate it anyway.”**

**Niall shook his head again, but more happily this time. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop worrying about you. I don’t think I’m supposed to either. It’s one of those irremovable clauses in boyfriend contracts.”**

**Zayn’s smile was impossibly cute; Niall surged forward (although it was a really short distance actually) and latched their lips together for longer this time. The water wasn’t really all that hot at this point, they’d been in the shower for way too long but it was still warm and it felt nice cascading over their bodies. The kisses started off slow and gentle - almost shy - and they seemed to be conveying messages of _I’m sorry_ and  _Yeah, me too_.**

**But pretty soon Niall’s back was pushed up against the slick tiles of the wall, Zayn pressing him there forcefully as their tongues explored deeper and deeper, and moved faster with a sort of insatiable desperation. Moaning softly, Niall gripped the slippery strands at the back of Zayn’s head in one hand and the other hand squeezed the curve of his ass, nudging him closer and closer until they were grinding against the wall.**

**Zayn reached down in between them, dipping his fingers into and along the ridges of Niall’s abs, before moving further down to wrap a hand around his cock. He began stroking it skilfully and _fuck_ , his fingers were magic. Always, torturous exquisite magic. Within seconds, Niall had to break away from the kiss to catch his breath and steady his shaky legs against the wall. He peeked down to watch his stiff cock slip in and out of Zayn’s pretty  _pretty_ hand, and watch Zayn’s thumb run over and around the head of his cock as he slicked the skin with water and pre-come. And then Niall had to close his eyes.**

**Zayn was watching his every move intently, gauging Niall’s every reaction. This was what turned Zayn on more than anything - hearing Niall’s unabashed moans, watching Niall slowly fall apart, knowing that it was all because of him, knowing that only he could make Niall feel like this. That's what made _him_  fall apart. Niall’s eyes flew open when Zayn took both their cocks into his hand, pumping them alongside each other. It really couldn’t get more intimate, their dicks sliding together, unfurling and hardening in perfect unison. Zayn’s teeth were digging into his bottom lip, and his eyelids were heavy and halfway shut as he set a steady rhythm rocking their groins back and forth against the wall.**

**Zayn hardly ever made much noise during sex but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t expressive in his own way - Niall had learned how to read the way his breath hitched in his throat when he was touched exactly right, the way he’d cover his face with one hand when Niall was deep inside him and perfectly hitting that spot over and over, the way his toes curled against Niall’s ankles just before he was about to come.**

**Now, Niall removed Zayn’s hand from around the both of them and turned himself around, leaning forward a little to brace his arms against the wall and to stick his ass out behind him.**

**“I can’t get more blatant than that. I've been horny as fuck this whole day. I want that dick inside me," Niall told him, chuckling a little.**

**Zayn burst into abrupt laughter and edged closer to him. His laughter trailed off as he moved his fingers across the ready creamy globes of Niall’s ass, squeezing the flesh and getting in an occasional playful spank. “That’s what I love about you. You don’t beat around the bush. And your wish is always my command. I'm gonna fuck you so hard, Niall.”**

**And Niall believed him when he shoved two fingers inside him, grunting roughly as Niall wriggled for more movement, more friction. Just _more_. As the fingers curled inside him, opening him and leaving him yearning for something harder and bigger, Niall started to whine. “Just - C’mon Zayn.”**

**Like Zayn had said before, Niall’s wish was his command. He withdrew his fingers and pumped his dick once, twice, and then lined it up with Niall’s ready hole. Bracing his hands on Niall’s hips again, he entered him slowly and he moaned, fucking _keened_. He could never help it in this moment. Niall just felt too good, so tight and he was so damn gorgeous beneath him.**

**He started to move inside him immediately, gently at first, only barely stroking that area of nerves he knew better than the back of his own hand. He let Niall’s increasing whimpers tell him when it was okay to be a little rougher. And when it was okay, he steadied his hands on Niall’s shoulders, using the momentum to bounce the little tight ass up and down his cock. He fucked him just as hard as he said he would, and Niall kept demanding _harder... Yes, harder._ Zayn did just that, his hips slamming back and forth with force, until the only sounds Niall was making were murmurs of approval. "Zayn. Baby... Fuck yeah- _Yes._  "**

**Niall came in no time at all, gasping and clutching desperately for something to grip onto on the slippery wall, and Zayn was soon to follow, spilling into him and leaning forward to fall onto Niall’s back as they rode it out. When Zayn got his breath back, he pulled out and turned Niall around to kiss him on his forehead, on the cheek, on his lips. His next words were somewhat unexpected.**

**“I saw the food you cooked for me when I went into the kitchen. And then I saw the roses when I went into the bedroom. And I seriously wanted to shoot myself in the face. You did all that for me...”**

**Niall felt shy for some reason, all of a sudden. He shrugged and said, “Wasn’t a big deal.”**

**“You cooked a whole meal. It’s a big deal. Let's go dish up, I want to eat my birthday dinner.”**

**Niall was seriously on the verge of blushing and over what, he wasn’t entirely sure. But Zayn just looked so happy and thankful over some stupid pot of spaghetti bolognaise. It was sweet. “Zayn, it’s like past midnight. We can eat tomorrow.”**

**“No, I want it now. Can we eat in the bedroom? I wanna sit on my rose petals.” Zayn was grinning now.**

**“You’re a dork. And I mean that in the nicest way possible.”**

**They stepped out of the shower, their skin puckered and wrinkled. After drying Niall off with a huge towel from the rack, Zayn hugged him close and said, “All this great stuff that’s happening to me...The modeling stuff. I’m loving it obviously but - it wouldn’t mean anything to me without you. You know that, right?”**

**Niall held on to him tight, inhaling the scent of watermelon and mint shampoo. Yeah, Niall realised that he did know. But still. "It's nice to hear from time to time."**


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Present day ;)

 

**_Mr Niall Horan_ **

**_You are cordially invited to attend the exclusive launch of Gucci’s latest flanker fragrance on 4 September at the Gucci flagship store located at Trump Towers, Fifth Avenue, New York City. 8pm-10pm_ **

_~~The House of Gucci was founded by Guccio Gucci in 1921. The company's first fragrance, Gucci No. 1 for women, was introduced in 1974. A series of fragrances for men and women have since been launched, with many taking legendary status amongst perfume collectors.~~_

**_Gucci Guilty Pour Homme Intense_ ** _was created by Frida Giannini, creative director of the house of Gucci. Gucci Guilty Pour Homme Intense, a strong provocative fragrance, introduces accords of amalfi lemon, coriander and lavender in its top notes. The heart of orange blossom and neroli settles in a trace of patchouli, cedar and amber._

_Commercial and print media campaigns will be launched in the coming week. The face of **Gucci Guilty Pour Homme Intense**  is Zayn Malik, who is also the current face of the original Gucci Guilty Pour Homme as well as Gucci Sport Pour Homme._

**_This invitation is valid for one person only and is non-transferable. It must be presented at the door for entry. Duplications or copies will not be permitted. Television crew will be present; invitees may be requested to sign a waiver._ **

Niall stared at the engraved gold card in his hand, bewildered. It had been delivered to his desk a minute earlier by a delivery boy working for a courier service and the envelope containing it had been clearly marked  _Niall Horan, Hewlett Sandsman and Pringle Associates._  Who the hell was crazy enough to think that he’d be interested in going to some perfume launch - cologne launch, whatever. Especially this specific one. The RSVP information had contact details for Gucci’s NYC headquarters, but the question which remained was who exactly had invited him? The PR department at Zayn’s agency, maybe? Niall had gotten a few invitations through their office since he’d started working with the agency but nothing as high-profile as this.

This was obviously quite an elite event - Niall could tell by the unique barcode on the invitation ( _was that really necessary?)_  and the accompanying huge gold-encased vial of fragrance, studded with Swarovski-crystals. A fragrance which, if Niall’s assumptions were correct, was not available on the market yet. He hoped for Gucci’s own sake that this gaudy and exorbitant packaging was just for the launch, otherwise he couldn’t imagine how they were going to make a profit.

After a few more moments of internal deliberation (during which he decided he definitely did  _not_  want to go), he tossed the invitation into the small waste basket next to his desk. He was keeping the cologne though - he wasn’t an idiot.

Unfortunately for him, the second that he threw the gold card into the trash can was also the second that Louis rounded the corner near their desks, having just come back from court.

“What’s that? A Willy Wonka Golden Ticket?” he asked conversationally.

See, the thing is. If Niall had played it cool and not responded jumpily, Louis would’ve probably let it go and their day would have then proceeded like any other Wednesday afternoon. But as it was, Niall was caught off guard by Louis’ sudden appearance and he stumbled and mumbled through his response, “It’s nothing - Just some papers...”

Louis’ suspicions were immediately aroused, and he walked a bit faster towards Niall’s desk. “That didn’t look like papers. It was smaller. Small and gold.”

When Louis reached him, there was a second where they stared at each other in a mild stand-off. Then at the exact same moment, they reached downwards for the waste basket which unfortunately for Niall was closer to Louis. They fought over it for a bit, both tugging and pulling, causing their coworkers to look up, shake their heads and promptly return back to whatever they’d been busy with. Louis eventually won the tumble, running triumphantly to his desk with the waste basket in hand.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” But Niall was laughing as he said it.

The golden card was right at the top, so it wasn’t like Louis had to dig around to find it. As he opened it and read the engraved words, his eyes grew progressively wider and wider until he looked across at Niall and bellowed, “ _I’m_  crazy? I’m not the one who threw away a personal invitation from Gucci. Why would you throw this away?”

 “I think the answer to that is obvious. Because I don’t want to go.”

Louis looked back down at the card in his hands, shaking his head. “Because of Zayn? That’s really dumb. You can’t keep trying to avoid him. He’s a part of your life again, deal with it.”

“My professional life,” Niall was quick to interject. “He’s a part of my professional life. That doesn’t mean I have to see him after hours or go to designer parties that have absolutely nothing to do with my job.” Anyway Niall hadn’t heard from Zayn in weeks, not since that day at Louis’ apartment. So why should he go to some launch of his.

Louis’ eyes suddenly lit up. “Hey, do you think Harry will be there?”

Niall wasn’t completely sure he liked where this was going. “I don’t know Lou. Probably. If I managed to crack an invite, I’m sure Zayn’s best friend did too.”

“You should go,” Louis said decisively as he threw the invitation onto Niall’s desk. “It’ll be a chance for you and Harry to fix your friendship. Which I want, because - well because you’re my friend and I care about you. But  _most_  importantly, if you guys are friends again, it’ll be much easier and much less stalkerish of me to start bumping into him everywhere.”

Now Niall was positive he didn’t like where this was going.

Before he had to respond to Louis’ absurd scheme, Niall’s work phone saved him by ringing. He lunged across his desk for it. “Niall Horan speaking.”

“Mr Horan. Hi, it’s Liam,” a pleasant voice on the other line said.

“Hi, long time! And - just Niall please.” For the hundredth time. Niall wondered why he still bothered correcting him. If Liam wasn’t so nice, Niall would’ve been a little exasperated by him.

“Alright,” Liam responded like he always did. “I’m just calling to find out if you’ve gotten the invitation to the Gucci fragrance launch? Mr Malik asked that you be added to the list. He thought you might want to go.”

_Did he now._

“Um, yeah I got it. Tell him thanks. But I’m pretty sure I’ll be swamped at work so I don’t think I’ll be able to make it.”

“You’ll be swamped at work on a Friday night?” Liam didn’t sound suspicious, just surprised and quite sympathetic.

“Yeah. Upcoming case needs a lot of work.” Which wasn’t completely a lie. But Niall was planning on doing his reading and pre-trial witness interviews on Saturday morning, not Friday night.

“Sorry to hear that. I’ll let Mr Malik know. - He’ll be disappointed.”

“Well. Thanks again.”

Niall hung up and got back to work, opening up his emails on his laptop and responding to a few. The silence from his friend at the desk next to his was deafening. He  _knew_  that Louis had overheard his conversation with Liam and he  _knew_  that Louis had something to say about it. Eventually Niall couldn’t stand the quiet anymore. “Spit it out.”

Louis looked up smugly. “Spit what out? Hmm? You don’t listen to a thing I say so I’m just going to shut up when it comes to anything remotely connected to your ex.”

“Okay...” Niall said, unsure. That’s what he wanted, right, for Louis to shut about Zayn? But.

A few minutes of silence later. “No seriously, spit it out.”

Again, Louis looked up, rubbing his hands together smugly this time. “Okay, fine. I think you should go to the party. And I will list the reasons why...it sounds like fun, there will probably be a shit load of cool freebies there, there will  _definitely_  be a shit load of sexy people there. And it’s also the perfect opportunity for you to prove that you’re over Zayn like you always insist you are. Because why would you keep going out of your way to avoid someone you’re ‘totally over’?” Louis used his fingers to make quotation marks in the air and Niall wanted to stick a certain finger of his own up in the air.

It was that last part of Louis’ argument that did it really. If there was one thing Niall hated, it was when his friends and family suggested that he was anything other than ‘totally over’ Zayn.

Candice Hewlett who was passing by (and evidently eavesdropping) put in her two cents, “Louis is right. And you know it. If you’re really ready to date other people and all that other stuff like you claim, then you should be able to stop running away from Zayn every opportunity you get.” And with that, sashaying in her black pencil-skirt, she continued on her way.

Niall hated when the two of them ganged up against him.

“Fine. I’ll go. But my reason for not going wasn’t because I wanted to avoid him, by the way. I didn’t want to go because the party sounds lame.”

“Now I know you’re a liar,” Louis said without skipping a beat. “You and I both know it doesn’t sound lame. Call Liam back.”

So Niall did exactly that and after explaining that his schedule had suddenly cleared up and he could go to the launch after all, he felt a bit guilty at how relieved and happy Liam sounded.

“Mr Malik and Mr Styles will be pleased to hear you can make it. Will you be attending alone?”

“I guess so. The invite says it’s only for one person?”

“Yes. But if there’s anyone you want added to the list, just let me know. I can get an invite sent to them.”

“Really? Well...I hate to ask...But maybe just one more invite? For my friend Louis Tomlinson?” Niall turned to watch Louis’ reaction as he spoke and he wasn’t disappointed. Louis hooted gleefully and nodded very enthusiastically.

On the other end of the line, “Sure, Mr Horan. That won’t be a problem. Just give me his delivery address and he should be receiving an invitation later today.”

As soon as Niall finished his conversation with Liam and put the phone down, the first thing he heard was, “Niall Horan, have I told you lately that I love you!”

..............................

On Friday evening after a long day at work, Niall was faced with the same question he’d been dealing with many times since Zayn had come back into his life - what the hell should he wear?? The launch party was a black tie event, so that little bit of information helped slightly. But was he supposed to wear an actual tie? Or, some fashion-forward ensemble he definitely didn’t own? Earlier that day when he’d said to Louis only half-jokingly that he wished he could just go in sweats and sneakers, the look of contempt his older friend gave him spoke volumes.

In the end, Niall went for safe but boring - nice black suit, skinny black tie, white shirt. It was safe and boring, but only because it was his failproof outfit for looking good. He drove to Louis’ apartment complex a half hour later and there, was relieved to find that they were dressed quite similar- Louis was also in a black suit, but with a pale pink shirt and a black bow-tie.

Niall left his car in the parking lot at Louis' complex, they were taking a cab into the city for a couple of reasons: it was Friday night and they were men in their twenties who were going to a place that was bound to have free alcohol. While they weren’t planning on embarrassing themselves and getting shitfaced, they were definitely going to have fun. Niall had a feeling that alcohol was the only way he’d get through the evening convincingly enough to shut Louis up.

They arrived at Trump Towers just after 7h45 pm, so they were right on time. Louis was worried about striking the perfect balance between not being late and not arriving too early. Niall tried to remind him that it was doubtful anybody would give a shit what time the two of them pitched up. And he was right, there were far more important people to pay attention to.

The area outside the entrance to Trump Towers was covered in a long gold carpet, obviously keeping in theme with the colour-scheme of the fragrance. And a throng of shouting paparazzi were capturing pictures of people walking the carpet...Rihanna and Cara Delevingne. To the girls’ left was Eddy Murphy and what looked like his two gorgeous teenage daughters. Then Dianna Agron. Russell Brand. It made Niall wonder who else was  _inside_ the party.

Louis squealed as the two of them approached the entrance, “This is going to be awesome!” Niall practically had to drag his friend away from the golden carpet - “Lou, why do you want to take pictures? We’re not famous! The paps are just gonna ask us who the fuck we are!” -

They slipped around the crowded area to a smaller side door where more normal people like themselves seemed to be entering the building. They had to present their invitations which were then run under a handheld barcode scanner ( _seriously?)._ After the beefy security used iPads to find their names on an electronic list and after they were patted down for weapons and “other materials”, they were finally allowed to come in. Niall would bet on his life that nobody patted Rihanna down.

The party was on the 51st floor so they were escorted along with other invitees up into the elevator and then into the ginormous Gucci flagship store. Niall reeled a little when he walked in, only because he hadn’t really been expecting the sight before him. Although on hindsight it had been stupid of him not to expect this. The walls of the store were covered in numerous gigantic TV screens and each and every single one of them was showing static and moving images of Zayn.

“He really is rather beautiful, isn’t he,” Louis remarked quite admiringly as they walked further into the room.

 _Yes_... Even Niall couldn’t deny that. The ad campaign featured a shirtless Zayn in loose low-hanging jeans, hair immaculate but face stubbled sexily, roughly. In most scenes, his eyes were cast downwards towards the faceless female body beneath him, so that you could only get a tiny glimpse of his amber eyes now and then but you had a very good view of those long long lashes and high cheekbones.

Niall swallowed and grabbed a flute of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter. The room was packed and Niall caught sight of more celebrities, some swaying slightly to the beat of the Top 40 hits playing. Models, including Zayn’s friend Abena...Actresses (was that Judi Dench? Niall adored her)...Some younger actresses also, over there was Blake Lively standing near one of the TVs laughing with Rihanna and Cara.

And finally at the front of the room on a raised stage was Zayn, talking to distinguished Italian-looking old dudes. He was looking really good, dressed in a dark maroon suit and a simple black shirt. He couldn’t see Niall though, he was looking in the opposite direction. But Liam who was nearby with a clipboard in hand, caught sight of Louis and Niall. He and Harry came over to say hello, both of them very handsome in their black pants and dress shirts. Introductions weren’t necessary because everybody had met at the Portfolio lunch a couple months prior to this, so at least that bit of awkwardness was out of the way.

Niall was rather impressed at how suave and collected Louis was when he shook Harry’s hand. (He decided that he’d have to ask Louis for some lessons later on playing it cool in high-strung situations.) You’d swear this wasn’t the same guy who’d been fangirling for weeks at the mere mention of Harry’s name.

Zayn eventually noticed their group standing in the middle of the room and he began to make his way over. For a second, Niall considered bolting but then he remembered that this whole evening was about proving a certain point.

“Niall. Louis. Glad you guys could make it.” Zayn flashed them a winning smile when he reached their little group. He looked at Niall a bit closer and said softly, “Hey you, it’s been a while. How are you?”

Niall hated this sweet side of him. But only because he’d always loved it. "I'm fine-”

“Niall’s been busy lately. Dating and stuff,” Louis interjected casually. And Niall wanted to hit him.

Harry and Liam’s heads whipped towards Zayn’s direction, who merely looked at the ground and nodded. When he looked up a moment later he asked, “Luke?”

Niall’s silence seemed to be answer enough.

When Zayn was called away a minute later to speak to the media, Niall turned to Louis angrily and hissed, “What the fuck man? Seriously??” Liam gave Niall a sympathetic smile and looked like he wanted to give him a hug.

Louis shrugged, not looking the least bit sorry. “Just thought he might like to know. Who knows, you might even thank me later.” And with that, he turned his attention back to Harry who was looking back at him with more than a little interest.

....................................

Niall wasn’t sure whose idea it was to go clubbing afterwards. By that point he’d had a lot of wine and champagne so everything wasn’t exactly clear. But if he were to guess whose idea it was he’d say Louis Tomlinson. Although Harry was a likely candidate too. Niall and Liam hit it off pretty well at the launch party, and there was definitely an air of  _something_  between Harry and Louis. Zayn joined the four of them throughout the evening whenever he had a free moment, and he and Louis would cackle loudly, heads bent together, as they laughed at jokes nobody else understood.

All Niall knew was that the five young men found themselves at Blue Nightclub on the Upper East Side. If someone had told Niall at the start of the launch party that he'd end up at a club with Zayn and Harry, he would've laughed in their face. But nonetheless that's what happened. The evening quickly descended (ascended?) into ridiculous and entertaining chaos. Niall vaguely registered plenty of stupid dancing all round and multiple shots of God-knows-what.

Some time late into the night or maybe early into the morning Niall was leaning over the bar counter, attempting to catch the barman’s attention so that he could order his umpteenth beer.

“Don’t go out with him.”

Niall startled and turned around to see Zayn directly behind him, his general stance somewhat less graceful than usual.

Niall didn’t pretend to not know what he was talking about. Instead he just said in response, “You’re drunk.”

“So are you.”

And Niall realised he really was. Everything was a bit slower, a lot hazier than usual. And Zayn’s voice seemed to be coming from a place that was both very far away and very near. Niall swayed a little to the side as he lost his balance for a moment. He was staring directly into Zayn’s eyes, for the first time in a year. (Instead of looking at the area above his head or to the side like he normally did), and it made him feel a bit disorientated.

Zayn edged closer until they were standing face to face, chests touching, hips grazing.  _Jesus Christ_ , he smelled so ridiculously good. Niall briefly considered whether it would be socially acceptable to lean in and sniff him. “Don’t go out with him,” Zayn said again, frowning petulantly.

The only thing Niall could come up with was, “Why?”

Zayn's eyes fell closed and he was silent for a few seconds. When he opened his eyes, they were bright and earnest. “Because - because I - He’s all wrong for you.”

That wasn’t quite what Niall wanted to hear. In his drunken maze of thoughts, he didn’t know  _what_  he wanted to hear, but that wasn’t it. He heard himself demanding, “Why? You’re gonna have to give me more than that. Is he a serial killer? Does he wanna do weird shit in bed? Is he rude to waiters when he thinks nobody’s watching? Unless there’s something you know about him that I don’t, you’re in no position to say anything.”

“Weird shit in bed?” Trust that to be the only part of Niall’s ramblings that Zayn picked up on. Zayn drew back a little to look searchingly into Niall’s eyes and as he did so, he latched onto Niall’s hips for balance, gripping tightly in a manner that was so familiar. Zayn's frown deepened and he murmured, “Tell me you’re not having sex with him.”

“That’s none of your fucking business, Zayn...Let go of me please.”

Zayn laughed loudly then, his face suddenly lighting up in amusement. “How about you let go of me first.”

What the? Niall looked down between them, and saw that his own hands were indeed clutching into the shirt around Zayn’s waist. Not only clutching, but his fingers were twisting into it as though desperate to make contact with the bare skin underneath. When the hell had that happened? Niall was never, as in  _never_ , drinking again.

He abruptly released Zayn and turned away, going to find Louis so that they could get the hell out of there and go home. It was definitely time to call it a night.

“Bye, Niall! Until next time!” Zayn called after him laughingly, his words louder and less measured than when he was sober. “You know we're not done here, right?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, bold= flashback :)

When Niall woke up in the morning, blearily and reluctantly- he took note of a few things: firstly, the inside of his mouth felt and tasted like it hadn’t been touched by water in months; secondly, some invisible force in the room was apparently pounding a hammer against Niall’s forehead.

He was more or less able to recall going to a club with Louis, Harry, Liam and Zayn the night before, but some details were foggier than others. There had definitely been hot sweaty dancing, loud laughing over things that probably weren’t actually all that funny. And little blue shot glasses all throughout the night...

Niall froze in bed as another wisp of a memory suddenly came to the forefront - him and Zayn talking by the bar, standing unusually close with their arms wrapped around each other’s waists...As they talked about  _Luke_. Niall groaned and turned over to bury his head in the pillow so that he could let out a rather feeble muffled scream. If Niall had been in his own apartment, he wouldn’t have bothered to smother the shriek. But the bed he woke up in was not his own, he recognised it as the wide canopy bed in Louis’ guest room. No, he did not recall how he got there.

Eventually he lifted his head from the pillow (gingerly, because everything from the neck upwards hurt like a motherfucker) and he took a peak at the Spiderman-themed clock beside the bed. Just past 9 o’clock. _Crap._ He was meant to go into work at 10 o'clock to interview and prep one of their witnesses for an important case. And not only that, he really wanted to get some other work done too. The day before, he'd been reading through his client records on Zayn. The wording in some of the clauses in a few of Zayn's contracts didn’t sit quite right, seemed off... it made Niall uneasy. Niall had been planning to use this weekend to go through all the documents again in-depth.

He glanced at the clock again, hoping that by some miracle it would tell him it was actually 6 in the morning and he could get back to sleep. No such luck, of course. In that moment with his head aching and his limbs weighing him down, Niall was reminded  _why_  he hardly ever drank heavily anymore - these days he had important things to do that couldn’t wait for things like hangovers to subside. Cursing, he sat up in bed and groaned again when the room spun ominously for a few seconds.

It took a while for him to finally locate his phone (underneath his crumpled suit jacket just near the door) and when he read a message from one of the paralegals at the firm, he nearly wept with gratitude and sheer happiness. The witness that Niall was meant to interview had been called away by a sudden family emergency so Niall would only have to do the prep session later in the week.

 _Thank you God_ , Niall thought blissfully as he sank back down onto the bed and drifted off to sleep again. He tried not to think about how the front of the jacket he’d picked up off the floor smelled very faintly like Zayn's cologne.

When he woke up later with a much clearer head and a rested body that no longer hated him, the time was just after noon. He got out of bed, willingly this time because he was starving. But apart from his hunger, he also got up because Louis was standing over the edge of the bed fully dressed, full of energy and demanding that Niall stop being a lazy fucker.

“Okay, okay, I’m up... Stop yelling... Man, I need some food!” Niall stifled a yawn and began rooting around in the drawers where he knew Louis kept spare bath towels and cheap multi-packets of toothbrushes. “Why the hell did I sleep here, why didn’t the cab driver drop me off outside my apartment?”

“Two reasons. One, you left your car here yesterday and if you went home last night, that means I would’ve had to drive it over this morning or you would’ve had to take the bus here to come get it. Ain’t nobody got time for that,” Louis replied matter-of-factly as he dug around in the closet, probably looking for something for Niall to wear. “Second and most importantly, we have plans today. So I figured you might as well stay over so that we can go back to the city together today.”

Niall had no clue what Louis was talking about. “Plans? New York City?”

Louis finally turned around, knee-length cargo shorts and a black tank top in his hands. Funny enough the clothes actually belonged to Niall, he must have left them that one time he stayed over after Louis threw a rowdy party months ago that got them all in big trouble with the neighbors.

Louis tossed the shorts and shirt onto the bed and nodded in response to Niall’s dumbfounded questions. “Yes, plans in New York. I’ll take that to mean you don’t remember offering to help Harry move into his new apartment today?”

After a momentary stunned pause, Niall shook his head and burst out laughing. “You’re crazy. Why the fuck would I do that? Anyway, I was supposed to go into work today so I’m pretty sure I didn’t make plans to help anybody move in anywhere.”

“Well...” Louis shrugged and smiled self-assuredly, which had the effect of ceasing Niall’s laughter. In the year or so he’d known Louis, Niall had learned to read some of his quirks and mannerisms. That smile could only mean that Louis wasn’t kidding. It also meant that Louis was anticipating enjoying Niall’s reaction in the coming moments.

“Little Nialler. You apparently forgot all about work when you, Liam and Harry were attempting to - twerk, I think Harry called it. Anyway midst-twerk, I clearly remember you saying to Harry that you and I were free to help him get his things from the apartment he used to share with his douche ex-boyfriend. The douche part - Harry’s words, not mine. Although I’m inclined to agree with him. Anybody who’d let Harry go is not only a douche, but a lobotomized dumbass.”

Suddenly Niall wanted to get back under the covers again and curse the effects of alcohol, in peace.

Louis quirked an eyebrow, wagging a finger as though Niall was five years old. “Already know what you’re about to say. But unfortunately for you, no we are not cancelling on them. I told you profusely last night how much I love you for offering our services, don’t make me take back my words. They’re expecting us. And we are not flakes.”

“Them? They?” As in, people besides Harry? Jesus Christ, what else had Niall agreed to or offered to do?

“Yes. Try to keep up here, buddy. Liam and Zayn are coming too. Obviously.”

 _Just great._  Niall rolled his eyes and started to make his way towards the guest bathroom in a very resigned manner. He really didn’t have the energy to argue. Half-heartedly he questioned, “Does Harry really need an entire entourage to get his things? I’d think Zayn and Liam would be more than sufficient.”

“You didn’t seem to think so last night!” Louis cackled at the unimpressed glower Niall shot his way. “Sorry Niall, but the look on your face is priceless. Anyway, Harry doesn’t just need to get his stuff from his old apartment, he also needs to get set up in the new one. So our extra hands probably  _are_  needed.”

“As if you care if our hands are needed. You only want to go because you’re already half in love with him,” Niall said with a touch of snarkiness, just before entering the bathroom.

Louis was unbothered. He sounded as chirper as ever when he bellowed in Niall’s direction, “You say that like you expect me to say ‘no I’m not’. But I don’t deny things when they’re true. - Unlike you!”

Again, Niall was in no mood to argue or defend himself so he settled for merely flipping Louis off and promptly shutting the bathroom door.

A day in New York wasn’t exactly the worst way to spend a Saturday, Niall mused as he took a speedy shower. He’d have Louis there, and Liam. He could easily ignore the other two.

......................................

Niall rolled his eyes at least 10 times as he drove into the city with Louis seated beside him. Louis was chatting away with Zayn on the phone and eagerly making arrangements for the day. Apparently, Louis and Zayn had exchanged numbers at the club and were now acting like bosom buddies.

When Louis got off the phone he told Niall what Niall had pretty much already gathered through eavesdropping, “Zayn and Harry are gonna go get the rest of Harry’s clothes and music equipment from his ex-boyfriend’s. Liam’s already at the new place unpacking boxes, and me and you are gonna meet him there. Zayn’s gonna text me the address.”

“Splendid.”

“You’re not even trying to sound like you mean that.”

“You’re right, I’m not,” Niall replied serenely. “So, apart from forgetting that me and Harry are no longer friends, what did I miss last night? Did you make out with Harry on the dance floor, blow him in a bathroom stall?”

Louis sighed dramatically. “No...I wish. Haven’t really made my move yet. Only because he still seemed kind of tender from the breakup. He cried on my shoulder at one point, completely sloshed. Said he can’t help but miss the douche. So as you can imagine, it didn’t really seem like the right moment for me to try anything.” Louis sounded pretty despondent actually and Niall felt bad for him.

Niall thought he should explain something to him. “Harry gets a little emotional when he’s drunk. As in he’ll be bawling his eyes out and when you’re looking at him, you’ll think he’s absolutely devastated, completely shattered. But he’s not really. He’s just sad.”

“But I don’t want him to be even ‘just sad’.”

That was actually kind of fucking adorable of Louis, not that Niall was going to admit it out loud. Instead he elaborated some more, “When I was friends with him and he’d get upset over something, he tended to get over it quite quickly. He’s an emotional dude, but in a fleeting kind of way. Doesn’t dwell on things. So I would be very surprised if he stayed sad for long over this.”

“Times like this I remember why I keep you around, Niall. You actually talk sense occasionally... I just need to give him a little time.”

Louis was upbeat again after this momentary lapse in his mood and Niall figured that now would be a good time to ask the question that had been plaguing him all morning. “Uh, Louis. I don’t actually remember all the details of last night. As I’m sure you’ve deduced. So, um...I didn’t do or say anything embarrassing, did i?”

“Define embarrassing.”

“Well, I guess I’m asking if I didn’t say anything or do anything I should be regretting right now?” Niall kept his eyes locked on the road ahead and tried to sound nonchalant.

“In other words, did you say something to Zayn or about Zayn? Did you do anything embarrassing to Zayn or with Zayn? Right?” Louis asked just as nonchalantly in return.

Niall’s heart began thudding in his chest and his stomach seemed to plummet towards the floor.  _Shit. Fuck._ He didn’t think he liked where this appeared to be heading.

Louis let out a little laugh and patted him on the knee. “I shouldn’t torture you after you were so nice about Harry. No Niall, you didn’t do anything embarrassing. Honest. Unless you count a few minutes by the bar where you two were standing so close I couldn’t understand how you could  _possibly_  be breathing comfortably. But I wouldn’t call that embarrassing, I’d call it looking like you’re seconds away from fucking on top of the bar...” In a more serious voice, Louis went on to say, “Would it be weird if I said you look pretty good together? For a minute I could kind of imagine what you two must’ve been like, before.”

Well. Niall wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. So he didn’t.

Louis shifted in his seat to face him, “Look, man. I know this is like a no-go area for you. But can you just tell me what the fuck happened between you and him?”

Niall was quiet for a long time, trying to think of what to say. “At first I tried to keep it together, keep  _us_  together. But he changed. That's all there is to it essentially.”

“Okay but  _how_  did he change? What happened?” Louis sounded a tad bit exasperated. “Niall, you loved him, anybody can see that. And I’d bet on my life he loved you too. So what I want to know is, what was so bad that you couldn’t work it out?”

Niall felt that familiar uncomfortable slow churning in his stomach he got whenever this topic came up. “Uh. You know how it goes. Irreconcilable differences and all.” He wished everybody, his parents, his friends,  _everybody-_  he wished they’d all just let it go. It wasn’t rocket science- he and Zayn were great for a while, then they weren’t.

Turning away from Niall, Louis sounded slightly annoyed now. “I can see that’s all you’re willing to say. I should probably get you pissed drunk again and drag it out of you.”

 _Crap._  That would probably actually work.

They were both mostly quiet after that, lost in their own thoughts, the woman’s voice on GPS navigation guide the only sound in the car. Niall dwelled a bit on Louis saying that he and Zayn looked good together. The thing is, he hadn’t heard that in a long time (obviously)... but he used to hear it all the time. From everyone. Their parents, their friends, complete strangers (mostly teenage girls who would squeal in delight when the two young men shared a quick kiss in public.) Zayn and Niall used to just be  _good_ together, everybody agreed on that.

Niall was taken back to one late night in December when they’d been together for about five months. It had been one of those  _perfect_  cold nights right in the middle of winter.

.................................

**Perfect, because they were warm inside Niall’s bachelor pad, cuddling on the couch under a myriad of blankets. Half-drank mugs of hot chocolate sat abandoned on the coffee table, Zayn’s second and Niall’s third.**

**An old episode of House was on and Niall was so into it that he didn’t quite hear something Zayn mumbled halfway through House making his usual breakthrough diagnosis. Zayn was lying on top of him with his head resting in the hollow of Niall’s neck, and he hadn’t really moved or spoken in the past hour so Niall had assumed he was asleep.**

**Niall turned his attention away from the screen. “Hmm? Did you say something?”**

**“I said we fit together...You and me, we _fit_. Like, we balance each other out.” Zayn lifted his head and looked down at him, smiling.**

**Niall beamed back at him and angled upwards for a kiss that was slow, soft and drawn out. House and Cuddy on the screen would have to wait. When they pulled apart Niall said, “Yes. We do. But what made you think about that?”**

**“I was looking at our hands.” Zayn lifted up their entwined hands and Niall looked, trying to understand what about their hands was so fascinating.**

**After a few moments Zayn rolled his eyes. “You’re looking but you’re not really looking. Our hands... they’re kind of beautiful together.” Actually, Niall did see that. There was something quite striking about the contrast between Zayn’s long graceful fingers and Niall’s thicker sturdier ones; the winter paleness of Niall’s skin and the light mocha colour of Zayn’s.**

**Zayn snuggled back into the warm crook of Niall’s neck. “We’re so different in a lot of ways. Complete opposites in fact. And I was thinking about how we’re not really supposed to work, from a logical perspective.”**

**“Ever heard of opposites attract? We work _because_ we’re so different. Which is sort of exactly the point you’re making, right.” Niall shifted and wrapped his arms around Zayn’s back. “My mom said you and me complement each other. I can see where she’s coming from - you’re hot, I’m hot. It’s perfect.” Niall laughed to show he was only being half serious, but Zayn shook his head, causing the tip of his cold nose to nuzzle repeatedly against Niall’s skin. Zayn mumbled, “Nah, I wouldn’t call you  _hot_...”**

**Ouch. That stung quite a bit, but Niall tried to hide it by sounding light-hearted. “Well, that’s not very nice. Okay, I may not look as though my face was sculpted by the hand of God himself like some bastards around here, but I think I look pretty decent.”**

**Zayn lifted his head again and this time he wasn’t quite smiling, instead his gaze was intense, so much so that Niall suddenly couldn’t even blink or look away. “No, that's not what I was getting at. Hot doesn’t really even do you justice... You're - It’s embarrassing how many times a day you catch me staring at you...”  Zayn ran one hand along the dips and hollows of Niall’s biceps, his voice a little shaky as he spoke. “You're so _sexy_. Looking at you kinda makes me wanna get myself to a gym asap. But mostly you have me wanting to beg you to let me fuck you even when we’re in the most inappropriate places. Like, in the middle of the supermarket today.” He shifted on top of Niall and Niall could  _feel_  him, feel how much he meant his words.**

**_Fuck. Oh._ ** **Niall brushed a hand down his boyfriend's back and slipped it under the back of his pajama pants. “I probably would've had trouble saying no to the supermarket thing. But it's a good thing we’re not there right now.”**

**A few minutes later they were proving just how well they _fit_.**

**...........................**

Niall snapped out of the little reverie, annoyed at himself for letting his mind go there for even a moment. And he snapped out at a very convenient time; according to the GPS guide he and Louis were about a minute away from the Brooklyn address that Zayn had texted earlier. He turned into the quiet street and stopped outside a red-brick apartment complex next to a mini-market. Just as he and Louis were stepping out the car, Zayn pulled up in his own car with a subdued looking Harry in the passenger seat.

Niall had a deep passionate love for beautiful cars and Zayn’s Audi R Zero certainly fit into that category. Niall was perfectly content with his perfectly fine Ford Focus, thank you very much. He couldn’t deny the Audi was a showstopper though. He missed being able to take the car for a spin whenever he wanted.

Seeing Zayn drive - and drive so well-  _used_  to fill Niall with a ridiculous amount of pride because he’d been the one to teach him. That was the first thing he’d promised Zayn the very first night they met, that he’d teach him how to drive. There’d been a couple of funny silly squabbles during those driving lessons where Niall would get impatient after correcting something Zayn was doing for the hundredth time and Zayn would get frustrated and irritable in return. Making up afterwards had always been fun though.

But seeing Zayn driving now, Niall didn’t know what he felt. Something that felt strangely close to nostalgia, maybe.

When the other two got out of the Audi and joined Louis and Niall on the steps leading up to the building, Harry was the first to speak. “Thanks for coming to help me out. I was pretty surprised when Zayn told me Niall offered. Don’t really remember all of last night to be honest. But like I said, thank you, I’m sure you both have a million things you’d rather be doing.”

At least Harry knew the score, knew where Niall stood on things.

“It’s no problem, we don’t mind,” Louis assured Harry.

As they all made their way into the building, Zayn spoke at last. Softly to Niall. “You feeling okay after yesterday? Just, you know, we’re both kinda prone to hellish hangovers. My head was throbbing like you wouldn’t believe when I woke up this morning.”

“Woke up feeling great myself,” Niall lied coolly.

Zayn mumbled something that sounded like, “That’s good...” as he followed Niall up the stairs. It was true that back when they dated, the morning after a particularly heavy night of partying they'd both be feeling pretty shitty until they managed to sleep it off until at least noon. Those mornings, when Niall did finally wake up he'd always find a couple of headache tablets and a cool glass of water next to his side of the bed. He'd wonder where the hell Zayn found the energy to get up, come back and pass out again.

Anyway. Now, as the four young men stepped inside Harry’s apartment on the first floor, Niall stifled a groan. All he could see were piles of boxes and more boxes, all filled with things that still needed to be unpacked. He’d been hoping this was going to be a quick in and out job, but evidently this was going to be an all day affair. Niall shared a glance with Louis who was obviously thinking along the same lines - except unlike Niall, he looked a lot happier about it.

Without further ado, Niall picked up a heavy box marked 'kitchen shit' and carried it across the living room into the kitchen. He figured the sooner he got started, the sooner they'd be done. Just as soon as he'd used a rusty knife to open the box he heard footsteps behind him. Turning around, he saw it was Zayn carrying a box written 'more kitchen shit'. Zayn set it on top of the granite countertop and then faced in Niall's direction with a slow smile on his face.

"Me and you can do the kitchen," Zayn said when Niall looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Harry and Louis are unpacking stuff for the bedroom and bathroom, Liam has decided that the most pressing task for him right now is to sort Harry's CDs alphabetically. So you're stuck with me."

Niall looked away because he  _maybe_  had a sudden urge to smile back at him in that moment and that wouldn't do at all. He crossed his bare arms across his chest, suddenly feeling a bit exposed with just the two of them standing there. "Fine," was all Niall said. Because what else was he supposed to say?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starts right where the last chapter left off :)

“You’re looking exceptionally fine today.”

Glowering coldly, Niall looked across the room at his smirking ex boyfriend and muttered in response, “Fuck off. I’m not in the mood for any of your shit.”

He and Zayn were in the kitchen unpacking Harry’s numerous kitchen utensils and appliances, half of which Niall didn’t even know the name of. Well - Niall was packing things away and had been doing so for the past 5 minutes or so, but Zayn was just standing there a few feet away idly peeling an orange and watching him.

“No, I’m serious,” Zayn replied, his smile not flinching but growing if anything. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I can and do appreciate you in a suit but this- the shorts, the tank...It’s more you.”

Realising that he had nothing to say in response except for a repeat of ‘fuck off’, Niall chose to rather ignore him and turn his attention to assembling the parts of what appeared to be a juicer.

“If I tell you something, promise me you won’t get mad.”

Niall’s heart sank a little at those words. Because nothing good ever followed after somebody said to you ‘don’t get mad, but...’

“Don’t feel obligated to tell me anything. Really. Whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll survive if I don’t find out,” Niall said drily.

“No, I’m going to tell you. But I sort of need you to swear you won’t get mad.” Zayn set the orange down and walked closer as he spoke. And Niall resisted the urge to back away.

He stood his ground and forced his expression into one of bland indifference - despite the fact that he was actually a little curious now. He shrugged and said, “I can’t imagine that anything you have to say would affect me in any way. So alright, I swear I won’t get mad.”

Zayn nodded, but worryingly he looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Okay, you know how Louis told you that you offered to come here to help out Harry? And you know how you assumed that the reason you couldn’t remember is because you were too drunk last night?”

Niall narrowed his eyes at him and nodded slowly.

“Well...that wasn’t actually true. I called Louis this morning and asked him to bring you here... And we knew you probably wouldn’t come unless you felt you had to. So um, we kinda made up the part about last night.” Zayn waited for a reaction and when Niall just stared back at him, he said in a rush, “It was my idea though. Don’t get mad at Louis. I can see you’re mad at me despite your oath 20 seconds ago, but don’t be mad at him.”

Rolling his eyes, Niall turned his attention back to the appliance sitting on the counter. In a bored voice he said, “You resorted to tricks and ploys. Why am I not surprised. And why are you even telling me? You and Louis could’ve kept up your stupid little lie and I would’ve been none the wiser.”

There was a brief silence and when Zayn did answer him, it was so quietly that Niall looked back up at him, setting the juicer parts down. All traces of smirks and laughter on Zayn’s face were suddenly missing.”I’m telling you because I promised myself I’d never lie to you again.”

“Huh?”

Zayn chewed on his lip contemplatively and looked to the side. Then with resolve, he looked back at Niall. “After we broke up. After you left. I promised myself. I said that if I ever got to be in your life again, I wouldn’t make the same mistakes. So even though technically this was only a small harmless lie... Um, I just wanted to get it out.”

“Don’t phrase it like that,” Niall said sighing. “You’re not ‘in my life again’. I’m your lawyer and that is all. We shouldn’t be spending time together on weekends, going to clubs, moving house! And for the record, it’s a little too late for you to be declaring that you’re not gonna lie to me. Forgive me if I’m unmoved, but your promises would’ve meant a lot more approximately one year ago. Actually, you not lying in the first place would’ve been fan-fucking-tastic!”

Just as Zayn was about to respond, Niall cut him off, taking a deep breath and suddenly imploding, “And don’t you dare say that I left! Fucking hell. As if staying was an option. You really didn’t leave me with any choice! For months you were able to look me right in the eye and lie like it was nothing! You stopped giving a fuck about what I was feeling, about me! You became a completely different person. And I was supposed to stay?!”

Chest heaving, Niall felt like kicking himself because Zayn wasn’t the only one who’d made a promise to himself - Niall had made one a while ago that he wasn’t going to let Zayn affect him or get him stressed out ever again.

Liam appeared in the kitchen doorway right then, looking very concerned. He looked between a solemn Niall and an even more solemn Zayn, and said haltingly, “I heard yelling. Loud yelling. Is everything okay?”

Zayn nodded. “Yeah, Li. Everything’s fine. We just need a minute.”

Liam gave him a dubious glance, but retreated back into the living room.

Niall watched as Zayn shuffled his feet, picked a loose thread on his shirt, shuffled his feet again. All while the silence in the room grew uncomfortably deafening. Eventually Zayn lifted his eyes to meet Niall's gaze. “I know I was wrong back then. But that was a long time ago. Can’t I try to do things differently now?”

“Makes no fucking difference to my life what you do ‘now’. - Just tell me one thing. Why did you feel the need to trick me into coming here? What do you want? I shouldn’t have to tell you I don’t have time for whatever game you’re playing, Zayn.”

Zayn met his eyes for long seconds and stepped even closer with purposeful intent. This time Niall did shuffle backwards a little. He moved back even further when Zayn said, “I just wanted to see you, talk to you.”

“Why?” That came out sounding louder and more heated than Niall wanted. So much for not getting worked up.

“Because...because I wanted to hang out, basically. Maybe remind you that you didn’t always hate me? That we actually used to have a lot of fun?” Apparently Zayn was not overly discouraged by Niall trying to get away from him - he crossed the floor of the kitchen to stand right in front of Niall who had backed into the refrigerator.

“Well I don’t want to hang out with you," Niall said irritably. "Can we just finish helping Harry get settled, so I can go home? Whatever you want to talk about, it can just as easily be discussed during one of our meetings."

Right then was when Zayn appeared to also lose his cool. “Yeah right, Niall. Every single time we have a meeting, you get up as soon as it’s over and rush off like you’re about to miss the most important appointment of your life! I can barely get you to look me in the eye, never mind get you to talk about anything that doesn’t have to do with the law or my job.”

“That’s because you and me don’t have anything to discuss aside from those things.”

“Yes we do.” Zayn stepped unnecessarily close until his everything - his face, his eyes, his lips- were a mere couple of inches away from Niall’s.

Niall swallowed. “We don’t,” he insisted.

But Zayn shook his head and said, “Now who’s lying? We left things unresolved. One day we were together, the next we weren’t. I think we definitely have a few things left to say.”

His eyes flickered from Niall’s eyes down to his lips, and Niall swallowed again but somehow managed to say what he wanted to say. “Again. Don’t act like I just up and left one day. Don’t act like it was a sudden decision on my part. It was a long time coming Zayn. I tried for way too long to convince myself that you hadn’t changed, that everything would go back to how it used to be.” Niall’s steam had run out and now he just sounded weary. Too weary to even push away Zayn’s fingers which were absent-mindedly stroking Niall’s palm.

Zayn applied more pressure in his stroking motions, eradicating any doubt in Niall’s mind over whether he was doing it on purpose. Zayn's amber eyes were grave as he said, “You said I stopped giving a fuck about you. That's not true. There was never a day I didn’t give a fuck about you.”

Now Niall pulled his hand away. “It really doesn’t matter anymore, Zayn... Let’s just finish in here, alright. I need to get going sooner rather than later.”

“What’s the rush? I thought that maybe once we’re done here, we could all order a few pizzas? Watch one of Harry’s cheesy DVDs and laugh at him reciting all the words? Don’t look so hesitant...the other three guys are here so if the need to punch me in the face becomes too overwhelming for you, you can ignore me and talk to one of them. Just stay?” Zayn beamed his most winning smile. There was a time when that smile would have made Niall agree to almost anything on earth.

“I can’t.” Niall got more than a little satisfaction from saying his next words, “I have a date in about four hour’s time. So I really do need to get back to New Jersey.”

The change in Zayn’s demeanor was immediate. His face fell and he pulled away, taking at least three steps back. “With that Luke idiot?”

“Yes, with Luke. Not sure why you’re calling him an idiot though.”

“Cancel on him,” he replied flatly. “Stay.”

Niall harrumphed in disbelief. “No. Why the hell would I do that.”

Zayn apparently didn’t have an answer for that. What followed were long moments where they stared at each other in complete silence and Niall wanted to look away but for some reason he couldn’t - the intensity of some nameless emotion burning in Zayn’s eyes was too powerful to be ignored.

Zayn turned away, his movement jerky, and he began to walk out of the room. But before he was even halfway to the door he spun back to face Niall as he spat out tersely, “So, he’s your boyfriend now? You’re with him now?”

“Why the fuck are you getting mad? You have no right to, okay!” This time Niall did look away because with his words, the light in Zayn’s eyes dimmed and it almost hurt to see.

“Why are you going on a date with him?” Zayn asked a bit more calmly, but like he actually really wanted to know.

“Because I like him. Because he’s nice. - Why am I even explaining myself to you!” Niall exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.

Zayn ignored that and instead demanded, “Answer my question. Is he your boyfriend? You’re dating now? You stay over at his apartment, fuck him, wake up to make him breakfast? “

Niall’s mouth set into a hard line. “Screw you. I don’t have to answer to you so I don’t know why you’re looking at me with those big judgmental eyes.”

“You won’t give me a straight answer! Why is that?” Zayn looked really pissed again.

This conversation was going nowhere and Niall couldn’t even understand why they were having it. “It’s none of your business. Surely you can see that? You and me broke up a long time ago. Sure, I loved you and sure, you were pretty convincing in acting like you loved me too. But it’s done. I don’t owe you a thing. And actually you don’t owe me anything either. Let’s just allow the whole thing to die a peaceful death, okay?”

Zayn gave Niall one long look before storming out of the kitchen. A few moments later Niall heard the front door slam and the entire apartment seemed to shake with the force of it.

Louis came rushing into the kitchen but stopped a few steps away from Niall. He appeared to pause to ascertain Niall’s mood before deciding that, okay, it was safe to enter. He walked further into the kitchen saying, “I won’t even pretend like we didn’t hear every single word of that argument...I’m sorry for bringing you here. I wasn’t trying to get you upset, I honestly just wanted to help.”

“Well you didn’t help.”

Niall felt an exhaustion that had nothing to do with the hangover he’d woken up with. This fight with Zayn reminded him way too damn much of the last few months of their relationship, where the atmosphere had been fraught and foul with tension, harsh words and explosive tempers.

...............................

Niall was trying really hard to concentrate on the story Luke was telling him about some annoying little shit of a child star on the set of his new movie. They were sitting in a really lovely Italian restaurant. Niall’s penne all'arrabbiata was delicious. Luke was really good company; funny, sweet.

But Niall’s head was far away. He kept thinking about how positively infuriating Zayn was. He kept thinking about how he and Zayn had embarrassed themselves in front of their friends, yelling their business for the whole world to hear. Public airing of dirty laundry was so not Niall’s style. And he kept thinking about how he shouldn’t be thinking about Zayn at all. Here he was having dinner with a cute great guy who deserved his undivided attention.

When Luke had first asked Niall out, he’d been reluctant to say yes. It had been taken three calls from Luke and a dozen flirty texts before Niall agreed to meet up with him for coffee. But Niall was soon glad he’d agreed - the two of them had a really good time. The one thing Niall always looked for in a guy was somebody who made him laugh and with whom conversation flowed easily with little effort. Luke had all those characteristics and more. Despite the fact that he was a movie star, he was just a normal all-round nice guy. And adorable-looking to boot. So they'd followed the coffee date up with lunch a couple of days later and dinner the day after that. And for the past few weeks, they’d made their dates a regular thing.

Niall knew that Luke was more than ready to have sex. The other guy had been hinting for a while, never in a pushy way though. Niall couldn’t blame him really and was actually surprised that he was being so patient. They were two young men who’d been on at least a dozen dates. Dates that were followed by kissing and light petting, never anything more. Obviously Niall wasn’t frigid or backward, not in the slightest. He wanted to have sex with Luke too. But he had a strong suspicion that Luke really liked him, and this made Niall hold back. Because Niall wasn’t sure he felt it back quite as strongly and the last thing he wanted to do was complicate things and end up hurting Luke. But he knew he couldn’t put it off forever, he’d have to tell Luke one way or another that they were going to or they weren’t going to.

“You want dessert? My friend says the Zuppa Inglese is phenomenal.”

Niall snapped out of his day-dreaming and asked with a laugh, “The Zuppa what?”

Luke laughed with him. “Ah, now I’ve got your attention again. Zuppa Inglese. Says here it’s a custard-based dessert made with sponge cake and gelato. Wanna split it? I’m pretty stuffed.”

Niall felt really _fond_ looking at him and he smiled as he nodded. “Sure. Let’s split it.” He was determined to enjoy his evening and forget about anybody whose name started with Z. For the rest of the meal and during the drive home, Niall made sure to listen attentively to everything Luke said. When Luke kissed him good night - three times because he kept pulling Niall back in whenever Niall moved to get out of the car - Niall let himself get lost in the sweet soft kisses and the feeling of gentle hands curling into his hair. He decided right then and there that there was absolutely no reason why he shouldn’t have sex with Luke. After their next date maybe. They were attracted to each other, they both wanted it. As he made up his mind, Niall kind of wondered why he’d pondered over it for so long in the first place.

Once inside his apartment, Niall flopped onto his bed, only bothering to take his shoes off. It had been a long exhausting day, filled with too many confusing emotions. He promptly passed out, falling into a deep dreamless sleep. He was unfortunately woken up at around midnight by the buzzing of his phone underneath his shoulder. Cursing tiredly, he pulled it out and read the text with groggy eyes.

It was a long winding message from Zayn.

_You were right. I don’t have any right to get mad. But I can’t help it. I’m so mad right now I can barely think straight. Couldn’t even drive after I left, Harry had to. Mostly I’m really mad at myself. It’s my own fault you’re even available for other guys to take you out in the first place. We’re not finished talking Niall. Or at least I’m not_


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this whole chapter is a flashback :)

The sound of steady footsteps pattering across the tiled bedroom floor was probably what woke Niall up in the middle of the night. Or more likely, it was the sudden absence of the source of body heat that had been pressed up against his back. Eyes still closed, he mumbled into the darkness, “Where are you going?”

The footsteps ceased. Niall heard, or maybe sensed, Zayn turning around to face him. Then, a (completely unnecessary) whisper, “Shit, sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you up...I can’t sleep.”

Niall blinked towards the Zayn-shaped silhouette in mild amusement - he didn’t think he’d ever in his life heard Zayn say that he couldn’t sleep. Especially not in the middle of the night - 2:30 a.m. to be exact, according to their bedside clock. “Why can’t you sleep? And again, where are you going?”

There was a long pause. Long enough that it made Niall sit up slightly, resting against his elbows, as he waited for Zayn’s response.

Eventually Zayn murmured, “Just been thinking too much... I was gonna go read a book on the couch.”

Niall closed his eyes again and patted the space beside him. “Stay. I’m up now anyways. And it’s way too cold for you to leave me here alone...”

“Okay.”

After Zayn climbed back into the bed, Niall edged close to him and curled up against his side, his face nuzzling into the sleeve of the old t-shirt Zayn was wearing. He inhaled deeply and said, “I feel like I haven’t really seen you in ages. You’ve been so busy lately.”

It was true - Zayn’s career was taking off at a rapid pace and he was having to travel a lot. Just that morning he’d flown back in from San Diego and he was due to fly out again in the next two days, this time to the Singapore. More often than not, Zayn came back from shoots and meetings completely and understandably exhausted. Niall was happy that things were going so well for him, but at the same time he was starting to just really miss his boyfriend.

“What’s got you thinking so much that you can't sleep? You okay? “ Niall placed a soft kiss below Zayn’s ear and another along the fuzz covering his jaw, shifting on top of him until he was covering Zayn completely. He was trying to relieve some of the stiff tension he could sense emanating from Zayn’s entire body, even though he didn’t know the reason for it. Ever since he’d returned from California, Zayn hadn't really been himself. The whole day he’d been unusually quiet, even for him. And Niall had no idea what the problem was. He’d assumed that Zayn was just tired. But the fact that Zayn was wide awake at this very moment, blasted that theory away.

Zayn didn’t answer the questions posed to him and instead sighed and pulled Niall closer, his grip becoming almost painfully tight. Niall lifted his head from where it had been resting on his boyfriend’s chest so that he could look at Zayn directly. Except he couldn’t see all that much in the dark. He was almost tempted to turn the bedside lamp on but he knew his eyes would hate him if he did that.

Instead he brushed a hand against Zayn’s cheek and said, “Baby? You’re starting to worry me a little. Talk to me...”

“I’m good.  Just- we’re okay, right? You and me?” Zayn’s words were soft and halting; almost like he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to know the answer but was asking anyway.

“What do you mean?”

A little more firmly, he said, “I mean, are we good? There isn’t anything you want to talk to me about or say to me?”

Niall was genuinely stumped and he racked his brain for a few seconds but came up with nothing. “Um. No...Not off the top of my head anyway. But you obviously have something specific in mind so tell me what it is.”

There was more silence. And this time, Niall sat up abruptly and reached over to flick the lamp on. Because, what the hell was going on here? As harsh bright light flooded the room and they blinked at each other, Niall had a hard time reading Zayn’s expression - apart from the obvious fact that he was upset about  _something_. Niall moved from on top of him and budged to his own side of the bed, looking across at Zayn expectantly, patiently.  It was long moments later when Zayn shook his head, offering a small smile (that Niall wasn’t sure was completely genuine) as he said, “It’s nothing. Really - I’m being stupid. Just something someone said.”

But Niall wasn’t going to let it go that easily. “It’s obviously not nothing. Who is this someone and what did they say to you?”

“Nothing important.  I shouldn’t have said anything. Come back here.” Now, his smile seemed more heartfelt as he wrapped an arm around Niall’s waist and dragged him back on top of him. “God, I missed you so much this week. Can’t you come to Singapore with me on Tuesday?”

Niall laughed, despite the sinking feeling in his stomach over Zayn changing the subject. “I wish. First problem on our hands: I don’t have a ticket. Or any money to buy a ticket. Second problem, I have a huge test on Wednesday which I really can’t miss unless I want to fail this whole year.”

Zayn bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly in a petulant pout as he closed his eyes and Niall could tell he wasn't gonna let this go. His amber eyes suddenly snapped open in excitement. “Can't you do extra credit instead or a make-up test or something? We can afford a ticket, silly.”

Shaking his head, Niall chuckled again. “What do you mean ‘we’ can afford it? Maybe  _you_  can. I’m just a poor student. I still have a few months to go before I can afford anything. And unfortunately for me, this is the Accelerated Law Programme - the concept of make-up tests does not exist. So...”

Zayn looked like he was about to argue again so Niall placed his hands on either side of his face and bent down, covering the short distance between their lips. Their mouths met and Zayn’s hands immediately slid lower down Niall’s back. Niall liked these types of kisses best; the lazy,hot, unhurried ones in bed where sometimes the two of them felt too languid to even move all that much and everything around them seemed just that much more slower and sensual.

 Some time later Zayn murmured into the kiss, “Okay, fine. But next time, you’re coming with me even if I have to abduct you.”

Niall nodded and settled back against him with a happy smile because yeah, the thought of spending a few days in some exotic sexy location with his sexy boyfriend was very appealing.

“But it kinda sounded like you were saying you wouldn’t let me buy you a ticket though. That’s a little ridiculous.” Zayn poked him in the side, in the exact spot where he knew Niall was ticklish causing Niall to jerk a little and slap Zayn's hand away. Niall’s eyes were closed, but he could  _hear_  the frown in Zayn’s voice.

“That’s not what I was saying, Zayn. You can buy me a million tickets if you really want to but let’s not pretend like ‘we’ will be doing the buying. I have approximately zero dollars to my name right now. But if I’m not busy with school and you ask me to go with you to Dubai or Japan or something, fuck yeah I’m gonna go.”

Niall decided not to bring up the fact that back when he was still blasting his way through his trust fund before his parents cut him off, Zayn used to get really touchy about Niall paying for things.  _Yep, probably best not to bring that up._ Now it was Niall’s turn to change the subject. “Are you going to tell me what's been on your mind this whole day? Knowing you, you’re hoping I’m gonna let it go. But I’m not. So save yourself the hassle and just tell me.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything, seriously. It’s just Miles being his dramatic self yet again. Forget it. Please.”

Niall didn’t want to forget it. Especially if it had to do with Miles. As far as Niall was concerned, Zayn’s agent was nothing but trouble and Niall was itching for an excuse to kick his ass. “What did he say?”

“See, you're getting mad. Let's just drop it.”

“ _Zayn!_  What did he say?”

 “I love you.”

Niall sat up so quickly that it made him dizzy. “ _What?_ He told you he loved you?” Suddenly all Niall saw was  _redredred_ and he didn't truly get angry often but right now he could feel the hot fury building. No, he wasn’t going to kick Miles' ass the next time he saw him - he was going to beat the fucking shit out of him.  _The nerve of that no-good slimy piece of_ -

Zayn burst out laughing, startling Niall out of his murderous dark thoughts. Zayn then tried to muffle that laughter when he saw the icy death stare Niall shot his way. “No. Niall. I was saying to  _you_... I love you. And you love me. Forget about Miles. It doesn’t matter.”

Oh. - But still. “It mattered enough to make you stressed out earlier,” Niall pointed out.

“Well I’m not anymore. Let’s just go to sleep, okay? It’s almost 3 o’clock and I told your mother we’d be over for brunch by 10.”

Niall rolled his eyes, still feeling a little snarky.  He grumbled as he settled back into Zayn's embrace, “This is news to me. I love how the two of you make plans without me. I suppose I should be grateful that at least this time around I’m actually included in those plans.”

Though he wasn't about to admit it to Zayn right then, Niall actually loved that their two families were so close. After the big fight Niall had with his parents over money a couple of years ago - after which he’d ignored them for about six months -, it had been Zayn who facilitated the reconciliation, although it had taken a long time for him to convince Niall to even see Mr and Mrs Horan.

But back to the issue at hand.  _Seriously though, one would think one’s own mother would phone one and **not** one’s boyfriend when making any plans that involved one._

Zayn giggled again at the look on Niall’s face and wrapped him in a tight rib-crushing hug. “You’re really cute when you sulk. Your mom and I went out to lunch without you  _once_. Or twice. And it was only because she happened to be in the City at the same time I was there for work. But you’ll never let me forget it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Well, if me and you don’t work out at least you know you have a Plan B,” Niall teased. “Or maybe I’m the Plan B and she was your Plan A all along.”

“Look at you, practically pimping out your own mom.”

“Shut up. Go to sleep.” But he was grinning as he said it.

Niall received a slow smiley kiss in return followed by, “Good night, Plan B.”

Within minutes, Zayn was out like a light. So evidently whatever had been bothering him wasn’t an issue anymore. Or at least, that’s what Niall tried to tell himself to appease the uneasy feeling that settled somewhere in the pit of his stomach - he still didn’t know what had been stressing Zayn out in the first place.

........................

Over the next couple of days just before Zayn left for Singapore, Niall watched him a bit more closely than usual. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for...some sort of assurance that Zayn was  _okay_ , probably. And from what Niall could see, he was. So eventually as the weeks went on and their schedules finally seemed to stop conflicting, that strange 3 a.m. conversation (where Zayn had revealed nothing really) was forgotten.

Niall was only reminded of it again when he got that same uneasy feeling a few weeks later.

It was a normal Saturday morning in most respects. They procrastinated getting out of bed until 11 o’clock, having spent most of the morning listening to music on Zayn’s iPod, drifting in and out of sleep, both of them with one half of Zayn’s earphones pounding music into their ear.

There was one song in particular that Zayn was obsessed with, fixated with actually. And it was a good thing Niall had learned to like it too because he was forced to listen to it frequently (read: all day every day). He didn't mind though, the song sounded even more beautiful when Zayn sang it and it was a nice way to be gently coaxed out of sleep in the morning.

_Please don’t judge me_

_And I won’t judge you_

_‘Cause it could get ugly before it gets beautiful_

_... And if you love me then let it be beautiful_

_...Before we start talking crazy, saying some things we’ll regret_

_Can we just slow it down and press reset_

_You’re beautiful_

_Let it be beautiful_

When they did finally get out of bed, Niall summoned the energy to vacuum their apartment while Zayn busied himself in the kitchen making French toast and fried sausages. Once he was done vacuuming and changing the bedding in their room, Niall patted his grumbling stomach as he walked towards the kitchen as if to say  _There, there. You’ll be attended to soon buddy._

He stopped in the doorway of the kitchen though, upon hearing that his boyfriend was on the phone. Zayn was facing the other way and he was extremely agitated for some reason, hissing angrily into the phone as he slammed kitchen utensils and ingredients onto the counter.  _Who the hell was he talking to??_

 “He wouldn’t do that to me.”

“I just know, okay. - I know this because I know  _him_. I know him as well I know myself. - Are you fucking insane?!"

Niall hated eavesdropping, really he did. But he was half frozen in place and half curious in that moment, wondering what or  _who_ had caused Zayn to change from the happy person who’d been singing to Niall just an hour ago, into this angry blustering man.

“That’s absurd...I’m not gonna do that. No way.”

“Look, I realise you think you’re looking out for me. But even you have to admit all this is a little far-fetched, yeah?”

“And what proof would that be, where did you get this so-called proof?”

Zayn visibly tensed and bowed his head. “Are you sure? -  _Alright._  Fine. I’m coming over.”

As Zayn put the phone down, Niall cleared his throat to make his presence known and Zayn quickly spun around. If his voice had sounded agitated, it was nothing compared to what his face looked like. Zayn didn’t say anything, only staring back at Niall with a wild look in his eyes.

“Is everything okay?” Well. Niall could see that everything obviously wasn’t.

Zayn shook his head but contradictorily said, “Yeah. Um. I’m going out for a bit.”

Niall stepped closer, concern mounting with every second that Zayn kept looking at him blankly. “Zayn, something’s wrong. What is it?”

Zayn closed his eyes and shook his head again. The kitchen was filled with heavy silence until Zayn finally said in a flat voice, “Just need to go talk to a friend. Gonna shower then I’m heading out.”

And before Niall could question him further, he stalked out of the kitchen and a minute later Niall heard the shower running. Usually Niall would go join him in the shower but he had a feeling that this morning his presence might not be welcomed all that enthusiastically. Which was ridiculous if you asked him, because as far as Niall knew he hadn’t done anything to deserve that wary - accusatory? - look in Zayn’s eyes.

As Niall stood there in the middle of the kitchen confused as hell, Zayn’s phone rang on top of the counter. He’d left it there in his haste and because they answered each other’s phones all the time, Niall reached for it without a moment's further thought.

Miles.

Rolling his eyes and forcing his voice into some semblance of politeness, Niall said into the phone, “Hi. Zayn’s in the shower.”

A long pause. Then, “Niall?”

“Yes, it’s Niall. Why do you sound so surprised? I do live with him.” Now Niall wasn’t even bothering to sound polite anymore.

“I know that, smartass. Anyway, when he’s out the shower tell him that when he gets here he should park outside my complex, outside the gates. The parking spaces inside are full.”

“Wait. He’s coming to see you?  _You’re_  the one who was on the phone with him a few minutes ago? Should’ve known. What the hell did you say to him Miles?”

In a tone of voice so smug that it made Niall actually want to physically reach into the phone and somehow punch him in the face, Miles replied, “I think you’ll find it’s none of your business. I’m just looking out for my client.”

“I think  _you’ll_  find I’m just looking out for my boyfriend.”  _Which would be much easier if I could get him away from people like you._

Giving a short laugh Miles muttered, “Somehow I don’t think you’ll be holding that boyfriend title for very long.”

Niall’s heart began thudding in his chest and there was that uneasy feeling again. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Miles chuckled again. “Nothing, buddy. Nothing.”

“I’m not your buddy. What did you mean by that - I won’t be holding that title for much longer?”

Nonchalantly, all Miles said was, “Just give him the message, okay?”

“I don’t know what game you’re playing here. I’ve always seen right through you - basically you’re batshit crazy. Make no mistake about it - if you fuck with Zayn, I  _will_  hurt you.”

That annoying laugh again. “Whatever, blondie.  You sound worried, though. Are you worried I’m right?”

“What I sound is pissed off. Why are you all up in Zayn’s life? Don’t you have any other clients on your roster to mess with? You call him at all hours, you’re always over here. And you keep bringing all these fucking hanger-ons around here who are just as superficial and batshit as you are. Leave Zayn alone.”

“I’m his agent, genius. Look it’s been lovely chatting Niall, but I must dash. See you around...Or maybe not, actually.” There was that innuendo again.

“Fuck you.  _Buddy._ ”

Niall ended the call and resisted throwing the phone across the room. He despised that guy. (But had mostly learned to keep his feelings to himself for the sake of peace.) Mind racing and still fuming, he walked straight to the bedroom figuring that Zayn was in there because he could no longer hear any water running in the bathroom. He found Zayn dressed only in a pair of jeans, rifling through their closet.

“Zayn. We need to talk.”

“About what?” Zayn didn’t even turn around, instead he selected a red sweatshirt from the pile of clothes and pulled it over his head. Then he walked to the mirror, squeezed some or other product into his hand and began his daily hair ritual. 

“Would you look at me for one second.  _Zayn_. I feel like we’re having a fight but you’re the only one who knows what it’s about!”

Zayn finally turned around. “We’re not having a fight.”

“Then why are you acting like you’re mad at me? Look I know you were talking to Miles earlier. Whatever he said to you, whatever it’s about...You shouldn’t listen. I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record here but I swear to you, that guy doesn’t have your best interests at heart,” Niall said beseechingly.

Zayn walked closer until he stood right in front of Niall, but he made no move to touch him or take his hand like he usually would’ve done. Instead he just looked at him for a moment and then said, “I’m just going for a meeting with my agent, Niall. He said there's something I need to see. And before you ask, no I don’t know what it is. But I’m going to hear him out... I’ll be back in a little while.”

Zayn kissed Niall chastely on the cheek, scooped up his car keys and walked out of the room; leaving Niall with the feeling that something was very wrong here and everybody was in the loop except for him.

Niall assumed that when Zayn came back from Mile’s house, he would finally be able to find out what the hell was going on.

He should have known better. Zayn came back later that night with Harry and Harry’s latest girlfriend Sam in tow as well as a huge shopping bag filled to the brim with alcohol, and it became evident to Niall that nobody else was up for any serious talks that evening. Niall couldn’t help but wonder if Zayn had come with Harry in a deliberate attempt to avoid having to talk things through. In fact, Niall was almost positive this was the case. He knew his boyfriend very well and  _avoidance_  was a very Zayn thing to do.

Harry though, was completely oblivious to the tension between his two friends and instead got merrily drunker and drunker as the evening progressed. But that was nothing compared to what Zayn got.  _Smashed out of his mind_  would have been a more apt description and even that wasn’t quite fitting. He was downing vodka and rum like Niall had never seen him do before. Zayn didn’t usually get this hammered. Back in the day that used to be more Niall’s thing, but even he'd calmed down since then.

Niall watched the threesome’s drunken antics mostly with amusement. He got a little buzzed himself but he couldn’t relax enough to actually get drunk , not when all he really wanted to do was kick their friends out and just  _talk_  to Zayn.

At some point Harry got completely naked, which was nothing new of course. Sam stripped down to her panties (which Niall would have preferred not to see), but at least her and Harry appeared to be compatible in that respect. And Zayn evidently decided to take on the role of the angsty mournful drunk of the evening, singing (wailing) loudly and off-key along to Drake songs about lost loves and things that could’ve been but never will be.

At 2 in the morning, Niall finally had enough and he bundled Harry and Sam into a cab and sent them on their way. When he walked back into their apartment, he found Zayn lying haphazardly on the couch, still crooning softly to himself in between hiccups and burps, “ _The good ones go, the good ones go, if you wait too long...”_

“Babe. C’mon get up...” Niall groaned as he pulled Zayn to his feet and began half-walking/half-dragging him towards the bedroom. “Why on earth did you drink so much though? You’re gonna be so sick in the morning. You should probably have some water before you sleep.”

Zayn collapsed onto their bed and slurred into the pillow, “Didn’t wanna...Don’t wanna have to think about it...Still love you, always. Even though you. I hate it. Hurts.”

Huh? “Zayn, what are you talking about?”

There was no answer. Zayn was beyond passed out.

 Niall pulled off his boyfriend’s shoes and tried to get his jeans off too but soon enough gave up. The jeans were too tight. And Niall was tired.  _Man, fuck this shit._  After kicking off his own sneakers he climbed into the bed and spooned against Zayn’s back, holding him tight from behind as he tried to understand what the hell Zayn had been trying to say before he fell asleep.  _No clue whatsoever._


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the drill, flashback/memories = bold :)

The day after the disastrous trip to Brooklyn to help Harry move into his apartment, Niall woke up hoping for a relaxed drama-free (Zayn-free) Sunday where he could catch up on some work and maybe go pay Sean a visit. But a few hours later had Zayn sitting in Niall’s living room happily munching on gummy worms and laughing obnoxiously at whatever was playing on the television, and Niall wondering to himself why he bothered believing that anything would go like he hoped anymore.

It had started with a 9 o’clock call that morning just as Niall was contemplating whether he should get up and shower, or stay in bed for a few more minutes. Against his better judgment, upon seeing who the caller was Niall still answered.

“Zayn. It’s Sunday. What do you want? Yesterday wasn’t enough for you, you wanna try your hand at ruining my whole weekend?”

“How was your date last night?” Zayn said the word  _date_  in the same tone of voice one might use to describe a particularly nasty smell or the one person you despised more than anything on this earth.

“If you’re calling to throw another tantrum, I’m really not in the mood.”

“No. I don’t want to fight with you. I just - what are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Why?” Niall asked wearily.

“You and I need to meet up and have that talk. You know, the one you keep avoiding.  I just want a chance to say my piece. So I was thinking we could go out for dinner. Or you can come over here and I’ll make us something...”

Niall heard a smattering of whispering in the background but only managed to catch, “Zayn tell him...favourite.”

Immediately after this, Zayn said into the phone, “If you wanna come over instead of going out, I'll make your favourite. I know how much you love my honeyed butter chicken...”

Suspiciously Niall asked, “Who is that coaching you in the background? And for the record, I choose neither option.”

“Uh, you weren’t really supposed to hear her - it’s Safaa. She’s visiting me for the day.”

Niall perked up for the first time that morning. Safaa, Niall’s little partner in crime. Zayn’s youngest sister held a special place in Niall's heart and he missed the hell out of her. “Can I talk to her?”

“That’s the most excited I’ve heard you sound in a long time. I’ll try not to take it personally.”

Niall rolled his eyes. “Put her on the phone Zayn.”

“Yeah, okay. She wants to talk to you too, she was just waiting until we’d finished. Hold on -“

A few moments later, there was an excited squeal: “Niall!”

"Hey! How are you, honey? I miss you.”

“I miss you too! But you never come around anymore. Mommy said you and Zayn had a fight. Are you mad at all of us?”

Niall felt his heart drop and he said softly, “No I’m not mad at you. You know you’re my number one Saf. But yeah, me and Zayn - we broke up...Remember, I explained that the last time I saw you? What did Zayn say to you about it?”

“He said he made you sad. So you left. But can’t you forgive him Niall? Because now he’s sad too.”

As Niall contemplated what to say in response to that, he heard Zayn hiss in the background, “Safaa! Would you shut up.”

“Zayn’s telling me to shut up. I don’t think I was supposed to tell you he’s sad...”

The Zayn he’d interacted with since their break-up was far from sad. With a laugh, Niall said, “Okay. Let’s talk about something else then. How’s school?”

 “Nah. I don’t wanna talk about school, school’s boring...Niall?”

Even though he hadn’t spoken to her in months, Niall would know that wheedling tone anywhere. The tone of an 8 year-old who was about to ask for something they didn’t think they’d actually get. Amused, he replied, “Yeah?”

“Zayn said you don’t live too far from here...So can we come over  _pleeeaase_? I’ll even tell you all about school if you want. I really wanna see you.”

As if Niall could say no to that. Who was he to ignore the pleading of his number one partner in crime.

So that was how he found himself spending a Sunday afternoon in his apartment with Zayn and his little sister, watching awful shows on the wide-screen TV with names like Shake it Up and A.N.T. Farm.  _The quality of Disney programming has really gone down in recent times_ , he thought to himself wryly.

But Safaa was having a ball of a time, chattering away with Niall and singing along with the characters on the screen. She even got up from her seat at one point and showed the two of them some dance routine she’d learned from “Cece and Rocky”, flinging her little body about with the sort of confidence in her abilities that only children possess. So that made Niall laugh and have a ball of a time as well.

Niall was quite sure Zayn was purposefully trying to annoy him - he was singing along too and grinning in response every time Niall glared at him. But it was easier to ignore his all-round annoyingness with Safaa around. What was harder to ignore was how ridiculously good he looked for someone dressed simply in a sweatshirt and beanie. He was in the one of those thick warm-looking sweatshirts that tempted you to envelop the owner in a big hug and maybe hang on for a few seconds longer than necessary...And those toffee-coloured eyes, droopy and soft like Zayn hadn’t gotten much sleep, were way too attractive for their own good. It didn’t help that those eyes kept giving Niall this  _look_.

 _Goddamit_. Abruptly Niall stood up and said to Safaa, “I’ll be back in a sec okay...Uh, these jeans are uncomfortable, gonna go change into something else.” The jeans were fine actually but Niall needed a little breather. Why did Zayn still have the ability to make him feel so ill at ease?

“Okay. Shout if you need some help,” Zayn replied, his voice innocent but his eyes twinkling.

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

Niall walked to his bedroom and for lack of anything better to do, changed out of his jeans and put on a pair of shorts. And just in time too, because just as he was pulling the shorts up past his thighs, in walked Zayn. (Nonchalantly sucking on a lollipop as he plonked himself backwards onto Niall’s bed like he belonged there...smiling at the sight of Niall hastily doing his zip up.)

“Um, excuse me? Get out my room??” Niall exclaimed in disbelief.

Zayn ignored this and instead remarked as he glanced around the spacious room, “This is very you. I like it. Maybe - and this is just a suggestion - maybe you don’t really need that TV in here though, seeing as there’s already one in the living room.”

Niall wanted to go over to him and shove him off the bed. But that would require actually touching him. “When I want your decor advice, I’ll let you know. Get off my bed.”

Again, Niall was blatantly and casually ignored. Instead Zayn got even  _more_  comfortable if anything, pulling a pillow behind his head and crossing his legs in front of him. He patted the space next to himself with his free hand. “So is this where all the action takes place? This where you and Luke get down and dirty?”

Niall almost had the urge to laugh at Zayn’s sheer audacity. “You don’t really expect me to answer that.  _Get up_. It’s bad enough that you used your sister to come over here in the first place. So that you could harass me and get on my nerves. Now you’ve left her all alone to entertain herself.”

“I take offence to that accusation,” Zayn said with vague indignation. “I didn’t put her up to that. She begged me to bring her to see you but I told her she’d have to ask you. - And it’s not like I left her in the streets or something. She’s a big girl, she can sit in front of the TV by herself for 5 minutes.”

Niall gave up on trying to get him to move from the bed, which left him forced to hover awkwardly somewhere in the middle of the room because there wasn’t really anywhere else to sit or lie down apart from the big armchair on the opposite end of the bedroom. Stuffing his hands into his pocket, he enquired, “How did you even know I don’t live ‘that far’ away from you? You’ve never been here before.”

“Let’s not worry ourselves with small details.” He smiled but Niall didn’t return it.

“That’s a little creepy, Zayn. I hope you realise. Alot creepy actually.”

Zayn broke into a fit of laughter, choking a little on his lollipop. When he calmed down, he said, “Relax. I’m not stalking you. Louis mentioned where you live when we all went to that club on Friday night.”

“Of course he did.” Because,  _of course he did. Typical._

“Come here, please.” Zayn beckoned him towards the bed. “Sit with me. I’m not gonna bite.”

“Yeah, I’m good where I am. Thanks though, nice of you to invite me to sit on my own bed,” Niall said sarcastically.

That got another laugh out of Zayn. “I love it when you get sassy... No but seriously, come here. I just want to talk to you and you’re making it kinda difficult.”

“Really, I’m perfectly fine where I am.”

Shaking his head Zayn finally scooted off from the bed and rose to his feet. “Alright. I’ll come to you then.” He ambled over to where Niall stood, looking at him intently as he sucked on the lollipop a little too vigorously for it to not be on purpose. Niall forced himself not to stare at the pink lips working themselves around the hard ball of candy.

Zayn continued in between licks, “It’s better for me to be away from that bed anyway. I keep imagining you in it, which is not a bad thing obviously - but then Luke enters the picture and suddenly I feel like puking.”

“You know what, maybe _you_  should date Luke. Since you’re pretty much obsessed with talking about him all the time.” Niall tried to be as discreet as possible as he took a step back.

Zayn abandoned his lollipop, his expression swiftly becoming serious. “That’s because I can’t stop thinking about  _you_  with  _him_ ,” he said, sounding frustrated. Unsurprisingly he stepped closer. “I’ve tried, trust me. I tried all of last night to just stop fucking thinking about it.”

“It’s got nothing to do with you. It shouldn’t bother you in the first place.”

“Well it does.” Without warning Zayn wrapped his arms around Niall’s slowly retreating figure, latching onto his back and pulling him in so that their chests and stomachs collided. Once he had Niall where he wanted him, Zayn’s hands brushed down Niall’s arms and he clasped Niall’s hands with a firm unyielding grasp. All of this happened in a matter of seconds and Niall was too taken aback to even try to move.

Not too taken aback to talk though. He sputtered, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“These past few months I’ve gotten to know that look in your eyes very well, Niall. The look that means you’re about to flee." He bent down a little and whispered the last few words just over Niall’s earlob, "But I’m not going to let you this time.” He kept his lips there even after he’d stopped talking. He was so close to him,  _too close_ ; the proximity was making it hard for Niall to think clearly.

Niall closed his eyes and tried to stop his chest from rising and falling too rapidly. He tried not to think about the last time they’d been in almost this exact same position -standing next to their bed, face to face in the middle of a heated stormy argument, a couple of days before everything came to a head and the two of them ended.

Niall tried not to think about how that particular argument had ended with him shoving Zayn backwards onto the bed and fucking him ruthlessly while Zayn just gladly took it... Niall pinning him down and fucking him with a vigour that surprised them both because all the anger and love and hate and  _pain_  Niall felt in that moment seemed to pour out of him and there was nowhere else for any of it to go.

Now, Niall shook his head to clear it. “Zayn. This talk you want to have, now is not the time. I’m almost positive it’s going to end in yelling like it always does. And I don’t want to upset Safaa. Let go of me.”

Zayn’s grip on him did the exact opposite of loosening. “I have no intention of fighting with you. You’re right though, I don’t want to do this in front of Safaa. But it’s almost impossible to get you alone like this. I’ll let go of you if you promise you’ll come over tomorrow night... I’ll cook, I’ll talk, you just have to show up and listen.”

Niall heard the distant sound of Safaa yelling shrilly, “Guys! Good Luck Charlie’s starting! You don’t wanna miss it, right? I’ll pause it, ‘kay!”

The two of them looked at each other and almost started laughing until they remembered the position they were in and who they were in it with.

Niall looked at Zayn in resignation. “ _Fine_. I’ll come. Now will you stop manhandling me. Also, kindly note I’m only coming so I can finally get you off my case.”

Zayn nodded, looking very satisfied with himself. “Okay. It’s a date.”

“No. No, it’s not.”

Zayn merely laughed and began walking in the direction of the living room, his steps annoyingly upbeat as he glided out of the room.

Niall was certain of one thing as he watched him leave and that was this: no matter what Zayn had to say, no matter how many explanations he thought he had to offer, no matter how hard Zayn wanted to appease his own guilt and make excuses - none of that would erase how he had made Niall feel in those last few months. It wouldn’t take away the memory of that constant unbearable hurt that ached so bad it had made Niall wonder fleetingly if his heart was, in some wicked unexplained supernatural occurence, being torn into actual jagged pieces inside his chest.

...............................................

**After Zayn had received that mysterious call from Miles and then returned to his and Niall’s apartment only to get plastered beyond belief, Niall didn’t see much of him for the next few days. He’d leave early in the morning, barely looking Niall in the eye as he gave him a half-hearted goodbye kiss on the cheek. He’d stumble in late at night, often drunk and always unwilling to talk.**

**Niall was soon at his wits end. He could see everything they’d built over the past few years falling apart before his very eyes and the most frustrating thing was that he didn’t know the reason for it. He didn’t know _why_ he was losing Zayn, he just knew he was. He didn’t know what Zayn was up to, who he was spending all his time with, he didn’t know  _what the fuck was going on_.**

**And then there were the lies. So many lies.**

**Zayn would leave in the morning, saying he was heading out to see Harry. But then Harry would text Niall some random Harry-thing during the day and at the end say something like _Say hey to Zayn. I’ve been trying to get a hold of him since yesterday._**

**On some days Niall wouldn’t be able to get a hold of Zayn either, the line would just ring and ring every time he tried. Eventually, Niall, worried out of his mind, would call from someone else’s phone and suddenly there would be an answer. When he’d question Zayn about this, he’d get told, “Sorry. I didn’t hear it.” or “Sorry, it must have been on silent mode earlier.”**

**Then there were the days where after having been ignored all day and after having fallen asleep alone, Niall would wake up in the morning to find Zayn clutching him desperately tight, his body tensed up and a deep frown etched onto his face even as he slept. The whole situation was enough to make Niall want to tear his hair out in frustration.**

**Those times Niall would shake him awake and ask him things like** _What’s wrong? What’s happening to us? What did I do? Just talk to me._ **Niall questioned him constantly. More times than not, this would end in senseless screaming matches where neither of them were really saying much, Niall demanding to know what the hell was going on** _Or I’m leaving Zayn, I mean it **.**_   **And Zayn yelling at him to** _stop being a drama queen, you're always on my fucking case lately!_

**“If you don’t want to do this anymore, if you don’t love me anymore... Zayn, just tell me. It would be better than what you’re putting me through right now,” Niall said to him softly one night. He didn’t know how he knew that Zayn was awake because he hadn’t moved an inch in hours, but he just knew.**

**There was silence for such a long time that Niall assumed Zayn wasn’t going to answer him. “Niall. Don’t, okay... Just go to sleep.”**

**There is probably nothing in this world more painful than watching the person you love slowly fall out of love with you, slowly care less and less about you as the days goes by. Niall wondered why he was even bothering to stay. But in the middle of the night as Zayn clung to him like Niall was his only anchor, Niall would convince himself that things would get better, he just needed to give it time,** _all couples go through rough patches._

**Probably one of the worst, most utterly-baffling lies came to light the day Niall drove Zayn’s second youngest sister, 14 year-old Waliyha to a party at her friend’s house. Her parents were out of town for the evening, as was Zayn for the week so Niall had offered to drop her off and pick her up. Zayn had gone on a week-long visit to his cousin in England.And Niall was pretty much glad for his absence. But at the same time, not really. It was just alot easier to not have to worry about him. And it was better to not have to see the way his face would become almost eerily stony whenever he thought Niall wasn’t looking his way.**

**“I hope there’s not gonna be boys at this party, Waliyha,” he remarked as they neared their destination.**

**“It’s a chaperoned party! Relax. You’re almost as bad as Zayn. Not every boy is out to defile my honor,” she laughed.**

**Niall smiled at her choice of words. “We’re just looking out for you. Any boys in your life have to pass the test of approval first - Speaking of Zayn, how’s his trip going, you heard from him?”**

**“Uh, it's going okay, I guess. I dunno, I don’t really listen when my brother talks. But California is California, right?”**

**California? “He’s in England, though.”**

**Waliyha shot him a surprised look as she reapplied her lipgloss for the fifth time. “Um, no. Evidently you don’t listen to my brother either. Don’t blame you really, he’s such a downer lately. But no, he went to California. With his agent, I think.”**

**Niall didn’t know what to make of that. Waliyha seemed very sure but then again, Niall distinctly remembered Zayn telling him that he was going to Bradford to visit his cousin Amir.**

**He dropped Waliyha at her friend's house and waved her off with a smile, not wanting to worry her. But as he drove and drove around town with no clear destination or motivation, his confusion turned to worry turned to anger turned to absolute seething fury. He was so _sick_  of all this, sick of being treated like he didn’t matter, like he was too dumb to even ask questions. Zayn hadn’t even bothered to cover his tracks...Did he really not care that Niall was likely to speak to  _someone_ from his family and discover that no, Zayn was not in fact in England??**

**Niall pulled over and called the only person he could think of who might be able to shed some light on the matter.**

**It rang once, twice before Harry picked up. “Niall, I was just about to call you...” Harry sounded nervous. Why did he sound nervous?**

**“What is it? Did something happen to Zayn?” All of the sudden Niall was certain this was the case, and he felt his mouth go dry. His thoughts started running wild and a moment later he had to put his head on the steering wheel to keep from passing out.**

**“No, no. Zayn’s fine.. But he - I'm just gonna tell you what I know, okay... Two days ago, he was over here and I overheard a conversation he was having... I’ve been wondering this whole time whether I should tell you. Because like, I’m not even sure if I heard right. But - I think I did.” Harry sounded more and more anxious the more he spoke.**

**“Okay...What did you hear? Zayn's cheating on me, right?" And Niall almost felt relieved, because at least now he finally had an inkling as to what was going wrong between the two of them.**

**But Harry said haltingly in response, “No. I don’t think so.”**

**“Harry, just tell me. My imagination is thinking up things that are probably worse than what the truth is.”**

**“I know this is gonna sound crazy, it _is_  crazy. But I think he- he has a private investigator trailing you,” Harry said in a rush.**

**Niall blinked stupidly and then laughed loudly in sheer disbelief. A stunned moment later, he asked, “What?”**

**Harry sighed and elaborated, “I overheard him. And besides the phone call, he had a folder when he came over here but he wouldn’t let me see it. I thought it was just one of his modeling things but- I guess one of the papers fell out, I don’t know. It had information on you and like, your whereabouts throughout the day.”**

**“Wha - But why? Does he think I’m cheating on him or something?” Niall could hear himself talking but it all felt somewhat surreal, like he was having an out of body experience.**

**“I don’t know, Ni. Look I could be wrong, but I think it’s got something to do with money.”**

**Niall felt like passing out again. For the millionth time in the last few months, he asked nobody in particular, “What is _going on_?”**

**“I’m really sorry," Harry said sadly. "That’s all I know. He’s probably going to kill me and never speak to me again but I just thought you should know."**

**Niall mumbled something to the effect of “Thanks, Harry” and put his phone down on the seat beside him. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but was kind of leaning more towards crying. _Well, shit_. He realised belatedly and somewhat numbly as he brought a hand up to his face that there were already steady streams silently trailing down his cheeks.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Ok, so let me say upfront there's no flashbacks in this chapter...

 

Niall was convinced that he was dying. Like, almost ninety-six percent certain. Surely it was only a matter of mere hours now before he finally succumbed to the pain and departed this dear world. He was no doctor obviously, but he didn’t need a medical degree to know that it wasn’t normal to feel this shitty and wretched.

He’d spent the majority of the night clinging weakly to the toilet bowl, cursing his own body as he dry retched over and over- why was this useless body of his still trying to force him to vomit despite the fact that he’d emptied his stomach of all contents early into the night? There was nothing  _left_  to regurgitate. Apart from his internal organs. So maybe those were trying to come out too. Niall was seriously regretting the Chinese take-out he’d eaten the night before. He didn’t know if the source of his misery was the tangerine chicken or the sweet ‘n sour shrimp; but something in that meal had evidently been very off.

In between trips to the bathroom that morning, he left a message with one of the paralegals at work and sent Louis a quick text - there was no way he was going to make it into work. When his phone rang shortly after the text to Louis was delivered, he assumed that it was somebody from work calling and he barely bothered to glance at the screen as he answered it.

“Hello,” Niall croaked into the phone.

“Good morning, sunshine. You’re sounding chirper and full of energy this morning.”  _Not_ somebody from work. Zayn’s voice was way too loud or cheerful or something, and it was making Niall’s jaw clench in irritation. “I’m just calling to make sure you’re not gonna bail on me - you’re still coming over tonight, right?”

“Ugghh,” Niall groaned as a particularly harsh cramp seized his entire abdomen. “Now’s not a good time to talk... If you really must annoy me, can you do it later please?”

“No offense but you sound like shit. You hungover or something?”

“No. I’m dying,” Niall said miserably.

“Okay...Except in Niall-speak that means you’re sick. So what’s wrong?”

“If you really want all the gory details, I’ve been puking my guts out all night and my intestines feel like they’re being wrung dry from the inside out. Food poisoning I think.“ Niall hoped all this would gross Zayn out and he’d get off the phone as soon as possible.

“Aw. Poor baby...” Zayn cooed into the phone. Niall wasn’t completely sure whether he was being genuinely sympathetic or whether he was merely mocking him. Before Niall could ponder over it any further, Zayn continued, “Are you at home? Do you need me to swing by and take you to see a doctor?”

Niall closed his eyes - not that he’d ever admit it but Zayn’s voice was somewhat soothing now that he seemed to be making an effort to talk a little more softly. If that voice had belonged to anyone besides Zayn, Niall would probably ask them to stay on the line and keep talking until he fell asleep.

Instead he sighed, feeling more than a little sorry for himself. “No. That would require me getting up from this bed. And then travelling in a car. I’m about to puke again just thinking about it.”

“You sure? I really don’t mind,” Zayn said earnestly. “Of course, I’d rather  _not_  have vomit all over my car seats. But I think I could let it slide this time. Only for you though.”

“Your generosity knows no bounds. Selfless, that’s always the first word that comes to mind when I think of you,” Niall said acerbically. “Seriously, can we do this later? Or better yet, not at all? All this talking is draining the little energy I have left.”

“You sure you don’t want me to come see if you’re alright? Or at least let me bring you some stuff from the pharmacy?”

Zayn was being nice. Him being nice left Niall feeling conflicted because he wanted to be mean to him, but it was hard when somebody was being so  _nice_. “Nah. Just let me die in peace. Tell my parents I loved them.”

Zayn laughed a little. “I see you’re still as melodramatic as ever when you get sick...Okay, I’ll leave you to it then. Drink lots of fluids. And sleep if you can.”

“I’ve been trying to.” The only challenges there were the fact that even the smallest sip of water increased Niall’s nausea by about ten-fold and also, he was in way too much pain to fall asleep even though he was completely exhausted.

“Call me if you need anything. Or if you change your mind about the doctor.”

 _Fat chance in hell._  Just to get him off the phone, Niall said, “Yeah. Sure. Bye.”

Niall tried to fall asleep after this, he tried very hard. He knew that if he could slumber through the worst of the pain and nausea he’d wake up feeling a lot better. But the waves of queasiness that kept washing over him every few minutes or so, had him constantly running back and forth to the bathroom on increasingly shaky legs.

Eventually he abandoned his bed altogether and lay down on the tiles of the bathroom floor which actually felt nice and cool against his flushed cheek. He lay there for a long while, almost managing to doze off when he was rudely and jarringly interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing.

“Go away,” he muttered pitifully from his position on the floor.

The person did not go away. Instead they added persistent knocking on top of the shrill pinging of the doorbell. This alone was enought to convince Niall that it was Louis at the door, probably on a break from work to check up on Niall.

Maybe it was five minutes later when Niall accepted that Louis was not going to go away, so he gingerly dragged himself up from the ground and walked towards his front door at a snail’s pace, clutching his stomach the whole way as though that would hold its contents in place.

“Calm your tits, Lou. I’m coming. You fucker.”

But when he finally reached the door and opened it with narrowed eyes, there stood none of than Zayn whose own eyes looked slightly panicked, although they relaxed somewhat when they settled on Niall.

“Jesus, Niall. Why’d you take so long to answer? I was beginning to think you really were dying. Or already dead.”

“Now who’s showing a flair for melodrama? What are you doing here?” Niall hoped he was just briefly passing through but he doubted it, Zayn’s arms were heavily laden with plastic bags and he was looking at Niall expectantly.

“I decided to ignore what you said. Went to the store, got you some stuff. Are you gonna let me in?”

“No.”

Zayn appeared to have been expecting that answer because he merely smiled and stated patiently like he was speaking to a slow child, “Stop being stubborn.”

Niall did not have the energy or the mental clarity to engage in any type of argument. So he made things easier for himself, he stepped aside and let Zayn in before inching slowly towards the sofa. He’d been standing upright for about 2 minutes now and that was 2 minutes too long.

He vaguely heard Zayn walk to the kitchen and begin rummaging about in the cupboards. Niall wasn’t even gonna ask. He shut his eyes again and turned over on the couch to lie on his stomach - maybe if he pretended Zayn wasn’t there he’d eventually go away for real.

 “Are you okay to sit up a little?”

So much for pretending Zayn wasn’t there. It was difficult to ignore someone when they were resting a hand on your back and crouching down to talk softly into your ear.

 “I want you to drink this, you need to keep hydrated,” he continued gently.

Despite his resolve to ignore Zayn, Niall thought it wise to point out, “I can’t. I tried drinking water and it just makes me feel worse.”

“This isn’t water, though. It’s orange juice. A few sips. Try, that’s all I’m asking.”

His voice sounded so coaxing that Niall found himself sitting up and allowing Zayn to tip the small glass towards his lips. With annoyed surprise, he grudgingly admitted to himself that the orange juice was exactly what he needed in that moment -it was ice-cold, sweet, just the right degree of tartness; and gentle on his parched and damaged throat.

“Good, right? See I told you. Want some more?” Zayn was smiling as he spoke but Niall couldn’t help but think that there was a hint of smugness there too.

So it was with reluctance that Niall mumbled, “Yeah, I do...Where’d you find it anyway? I didn’t know I had orange juice.”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “You don't. And I knew that you wouldn’t. I knew you wouldn’t have anything remotely decent in your fridge or cupboards so I went to the store before I came here. Got everything we need to get you feeling all better again.”

Niall lay down on the sofa again. After a beat of silence he said, “That’s not necessary. I’m fine. You can go and do whatever it is you were supposed to be doing today. Leave the orange juice behind though.”

Zayn chuckled. “It’s gonna take more than that to get rid of me, Horan. A-plus for effort though... B-minus actually, if I’m being honest. I’ll bring you more orange juice but you should probably move to your bed, you’ll be a lot more comfortable there.” His voice drifted further and further away as he receded into the kitchen.

“You’re not the boss of me,” Niall muttered sullenly. When he got up and walked towards his bedroom a few seconds later, it was  _only_  because he wanted to.

He climbed back into the bed and delicately turned himself from side to side, moaning a little as he tried to get into a comfortable position so he could  _fall asleep, dammit._ When Zayn came into the room a little while later, Niall abandoned his mission and made grabby-hand motions towards the glass of orange juice Zayn was carrying.

He rapidly drained the glass and contemplated asking for another, but decided not to test his stomach’s endurance. It had only been a few hours ago that he was violently spewing out whatever he tried to ingest. He still felt like someone whose days on this earth were numbered, but at least he was no longer physically attached to the toilet. Niall settled his head back down onto the middle of his pillow and tried to not be so acutely aware of the presence of the other person in the room.

“You probably didn’t get much sleep last night, huh?” Zayn said sympathetically from where he stood beside the bed. He bent over to rest a cool hand against Niall’s forehead. “Doesn’t feel too hot so that's good. You're shaking a little though. I think if you get some sleep, you’ll be okay in no time.”

“Easier said than done, Malik. Can’t sleep.”

“I think I can help with that. If you let me get into the bed with you - no, Jeez, I don’t mean sex- don’t give me such an evil look! You  _know_  what I meant.”

Niall did know what he’d meant.  “I’m a grown man, not some five-year old. I don’t need you to sing me to sleep.”

“It always used to do the trick when you were sick before.”

“That’s because I was humouring you. I only let you do it because I was too nice to tell you you were being a dumbass,” Niall lied.

“I don’t believe you,” Zayn said with a raised eyebrow but he looked a bit...hurt. And then Niall became annoyed with himself because for whatever reason, seeing Zayn hurt didn’t exactly fill Niall with the sense of satisfaction he thought it would. Rather, it made him want to take back the lie.

So yeah, sometimes Zayn used to sing to him when Niall was feeling particularly horrible and yeah, maybe that was cheesy and corny as fuck and maybe neither of them would ever in a million years tell anyone about it - but it had kinda been their thing. Zayn would coax away Niall’s flus and headaches and tummy bugs with soul food and belly rubs and and soft singing; and when the tables were turned, Niall would gently suck and fuck away whatever illness was troubling Zayn. They’d had a system that worked.

But that was then. And this was now.

Zayn bent over him again, his eyes filling with concern as he looked into Niall's. "Seriously, you're shaking... Let's do a quick inventory, okay? - tell me how you're feeling all over, where it hurts."

If Niall wasn't feeling so shit, he would've probably told Zayn to piss off - he didn't really want to be babied by Zayn of all people. But as it was, he simply complied with the instruction."Ugghh. My head hurts, my stomach definitely hurts. Can feel a sore throat coming on too. Legs hurt, my arms hurt... Basically everything hurts. And I'm so  _tired_ ," he finished pitifully, as Zayn started rubbing slow gentle circles on his shoulder. Maybe being babied didn't totally suck.

"I know you're tired. That's why I want you to sleep... Here, I'll make a deal with you, let's try it my way for ten minutes and if you're not asleep by then... Well, you can say  _I told you so_. And you can tell me to fuck off."

Niall considered this for a moment and then reluctantly nodded. He wanted to sleep. Needed to sleep. Zayn flashed him a brief happy smile as he took his shoes off and slowly clambered onto the bed. The two of them locked eyes and it was obvious they were both thinking along the lines of how long it had been since they'd been in the same bed.

"No monkey business," Niall said sharply. "Don't even think of trying anything. I don't even know why I'm agreeing to this, I'll regret it later for sure."

"No monkey business," Zayn agreed solemnly as he lay down on the other side of the bed. "Wish you didn't always think the worst of me. I just want to help you sleep so you can feel better."

There he went being  _nice_  again. Niall couldn't think of a response to that so he didn't say anything. He flopped over on to his back and Zayn's hand came to rest on the abdomen like he'd known it would.

Zayn began rubbing Niall's tummy, under his shirt, in steady clockwise motions and Niall involuntarily let out a soft sigh.  _Damn._  Niall could already feel his eyes drooping and he knew he'd be able to fall asleep if Zayn kept doing that. He hated it when Zayn was right. And Niall couldn't even find fault in anything the other man was doing - Zayn was staying well on the other side of the bed with only his arm stretched across so that he could stroke Niall's stomach, his hand not venturing anywhere remotely inappropriate. But that lone hand felt nice.

"Um... can you talk to me?" Niall made this request tentatively, surprising them both. It was just that he didn't want to be sung to. That would imply some level of intimacy, which they no longer shared...

"Okay. - You want to talk about us, like, our issues? Right now?" Zayn asked, sounding surprised. "I mean, we can if you want to. I just assumed you wouldn't want to 'cause you're sick."

Niall shook his head adamantly. "No, nothing heavy. Just talk about, whatever." He just wanted to be lulled to sleep and if memory served correctly, Zayn's voice could do the trick. Not that it was boring, but it was calming and it always did have the ability to get Niall to relax when nothing else could.

Luckily Zayn didn't question him further. He just talked. He talked about the night they met when Zayn had been working as a waiter and how he hadn’t been able to stop staring at Niall the whole time. He talked about how he had watched Niall laughing and drinking with that old lady, and how he’d thought Niall was the cutest thing to ever exist. He laughed a little as he talked about how even though he’d wanted nothing more than to talk to Niall that night or just get his attention, he hadn’t been brave enough to do anything about it.

He reminded Niall about the first big fight they had, all those years ago, over a guy dancing too close against Niall at some club, and how when the two of them got home that night they'd had the best most intense sex they’d ever had up to that point. Zayn talked about the time they moved into their new apartment, a big one by their standards, a month or two after Zayn got signed. They'd stayed up until dawn that first night, legs and torsos and arms entangled on their new couch as they talked about their future, everything they wanted to do and see together. They'd been so ridiculously (naively)  _happy_ , excited for the future and sure that everything was going to work out exactly how they hoped.

Zayn talked and Niall listened with an increasingly heavy heart and increasingly heavy eyes. He didn't say a word the whole time, he just concentrated on the hum of his ex's low voice and the feeling of his hand never ceasing their movements across Niall's stomach.

It was when Niall was in that strange state of limbo between sleep and awareness (but closer to sleep) when Zayn edged nearer to him, apparently believing Niall to no longer be awake.  _So much for no monkey business._  But Niall didn't stop him and he made sure not to flinch when Zayn softly cupped his cheek and whispered, "Niall?" Truth be told, he was curious as to what Zayn was gonna do next.

What Zayn did next was talk some more. In a halting, emotionally charged near-whisper. "I look into your eyes sometimes. And the way you look back at me, it kinda scares me... because it's like you're not gonna ever see me the same way you used to... I fucked up though. I can't even blame you for hating me."

Niall didn't move an inch or react outwardly at all, but on the inside his heart was racing. Not because he was all that moved by Zayn's words - he wasn't. (Words were just words and Niall was a firm believer in the saying that actions spoke louder.) No, the racing heart probably had something to do with the warm lips now resting firmly on his forehead and the thumb stroking his cheek. Both of those things felt good and for a moment Niall pretended that things were different or could be different.

This was the most physical contact they'd had in a really long time and before Zayn could get any other ideas and before Niall could lose his resolve, he feigned a giant languid yawn and turned onto his side to face the other way, making it look like a normal mid-sleep movement. What he didn't count on though was Zayn coming up against his back and holding him from behind, his hand snaking around to massage Niall's stomach again.

"Shit. I'm suddenly not all that convinced you're actually asleep," Zayn whispered into the back of his neck and it took all of Niall's efforts not to shiver. "If you're awake... can you - pretend you're not." Niall didn't answer so he supposed he was doing what Zayn asked.

Niall was pretty sure he smelled terrible after the night and morning he'd had but Zayn didn't seem to notice or care. In no time at all, warm and comfortable in the cocoon of the arms wrapped around him, Niall drifted off to sleep for real.

When he woke up later - many hours later according to the time on the clock - he was alone in the bed but he could hear sounds coming from the kitchen and most importantly he could smell something delicious in the air. He took stock of how he was feeling and noted that generally he felt much better, albeit a little weak.

He retrieved his phone from where it was lodged under his thigh and busied himself with typing responses to texts and the most urgent emails in his inbox. There was a slightly cryptic text from Luke sent not too long ago:  _Call me when you can talk_. Niall made a mental note to call him once Zayn was gone. As he was making good progress getting back into the swing of his work emails, Zayn entered the room carrying a tray of steaming food and saying, "Ah. Finally awake!"

Niall perked up. "What you got there? I'm starving." His eyes lit up even more as Zayn set the tray onto Niall's lap and Niall saw for himself what the food was- hot tomato soup and a thin slice of fresh bread.

"Just something light to ease you back into things," Zayn explained. "Knowing you, you probably want a full course meal. But I think this is all your poor stomach can handle for now. - I really hope you weren't checking your emails just now, you still need to rest."

"Yum," was all Niall said, his mouth already full.

 “Thank you Zayn,” Zayn prodded wryly.

“Screw you Zayn,” Niall said mildly.

“Yeah... that’ll work too. But c’mon I don’t expect sex from you when you’re sick, I can wait until you’re better.”

Niall happily carried on slurping his soup, only pausing briefly to say in a sarcastic tone, "Ha ha ha. Aren't you just a regular comedian.”

Zayn smiled in response but he also began backing away slowly as though to put distance between the two of them and Niall was immediately suspicious. When Zayn reached the doorway, he said in a manner that was too casual to actually be casual, "By the way, Luke was over here."

Niall's suspicion turned to a feeling of dread. "What? When?"

Zayn shifted where he stood, not quite meeting Niall's eye. "While you were sleeping. Um things may have...  _escalated_  between him and me. And it may have ended with me throwing him out."

"What? I can't believe you! Who the hell do you think you are, kicking  _my_  boyfriend out of  _my_  apartment?" Niall was livid and if Zayn were standing close enough, Niall would've thrown the soup at him. So in retrospect, Zayn had been wise to back away.

"Boyfriend?!"

 “Yes! As a matter of fact.”

“Bullshit," Zayn said testily.

"Believe what you want! But it is what it is and I need to call him. So you should be the one to leave now," Niall said tiredly. Why did his life always feel like one giant mess?

Zayn regarded him calmly for a moment. Before saying, "You know what? Usually I'd argue with you and then storm out of here, probably slam the door on my way out. But I'm not gonna do that. I still hate the thought of you with him, I hate  _him_. But I'm not going to fight with you. What I  _am_  gonna do is remind you, show you, every day why you don't belong with him." He walked back over to a dumb-founded Niall, and plopped down next to him on the bed.

His only further words before he located the remote control and switched the TV on were a mild, "Call him, if you want. Do what you gotta do. But I'm not leaving."


	16. Chapter 16

“Niall James Horan...So let me get this straight - Zayn came over to your apartment, stayed the whole day, nursed you back to health and then the two of you slept in the same bed? Am I leaving anything out?”

Louis swivelled his chair around to face in the direction of Niall’s work station, having long since abandoned  whatever brief he’d been typing when Niall had first walked into the office that morning grumbling about Zayn. (Zayn had _refused_  to leave Niall’s apartment the day before until well after midnight.) In hindsight Niall wished that he’d kept his mouth shut and not said a word to Louis because now Louis was choosing to focus very intently on only certain bits of the story - bits which were totally irrelevant in Niall’s opinion.

“We didn’t sleep in the same bed,” Niall countered absent-mindedly. He was attempting to read through a thick document from Zayn’s agency that had been waiting for him on his desk that morning. “I slept. He was just - I know this sounds stupid, okay - but he was uh, rubbing my stomach.” Niall mumbled the last few words. He knew what Louis’ reaction would be even before he heard it.

Louis hooted out a burst of loud laughter, causing the poor girl who had the misfortune of being seated near him to jump in alarm. He edged his chair closer to Niall’s desk and proceeded to speak in a marginally quieter voice. “Rubbing your stomach, Niall? Is that what you young kids are calling it these days?”

“You’re an idiot.” Looking up briefly, Niall tried to simultaneously smile apologetically at the girl and look disapprovingly at Louis.

Louis cackled again. “You’re right about that, I  _am_  an idiot. I’m an idiot for actually feeling sorry for you yesterday. I assumed you were all alone in your apartment, wallowing in the miserable depths of your illness.” Louis shook his head and threw his hands up in the air in a dramatic fashion. “Instead you were busy getting waited on hand and foot...getting your fucking belly rubbed. Which leads us to the question: besides the inappropriate touching, what else did the two of you do all day?”

Niall knew that defending himself was pointless really but that didn’t stop him from trying. “He wouldn’t leave until really late! What was I supposed to do? I was weak and incapacitated so I couldn’t exactly pick him up by the collar and throw him out...So um, we watched a couple of movies and then he cooked a bit of pasta and chicken and we ate. That’s it. No big deal.”

“So let me get this straight-”

Niall rolled his eyes, this was the fourth time those words were coming out of Louis’ mouth that morning.

“Let me get this straight,” Louis continued in a tone of voice that clearly conveyed that he was enjoying this a little too much, “the two of you spent the day and evening all cosy in your bed supposedly watching movies but more likely fantasising about doing each other in all kinds of dirty ways. And then he made you dinner? And then he brought that dinner to you in bed? This all sounds very domestic to me. I’d swear you’ve forgotten you’re meant to be dating someone else.”

Niall felt a slight sliver of guilt at those words. “That’s ridiculous. Of course I haven’t forgotten. In fact, I’m meeting Luke for lunch today.”

What Niall didn’t mention was that Zayn had gotten into a bit of an altercation with Luke (the details of which Niall still didn’t fully know). With Zayn there the whole evening, Niall never did get around to calling Luke back. He’d only managed to send a quick text before Zayn snatched his phone away and set it out of arm’s reach, protesting that Niall was about to miss a crucial part in The Avengers. Niall could only imagine what Louis would say if he were to hear this part of the story.

 _Speaking of Zayn_. There was something Niall had been meaning to do since Friday and it was now Tuesday morning already. He picked up the phone and dialled the extension for Candice Hewlett. She picked up on the second ring. “Hello, you! You feeling better?”

“I’m good, thanks. Listen, can you do me a favour? Remember when we put Zayn’s files in storage a few weeks back...his old contracts and things? I need you to get them out for me please - just wanna check a few things for him.” Niall purposefully ignored the widening smile on Louis’ face. Louis was still practically perched on top of Niall’s desk as though he didn’t have any work of his own to do.

“Sure,” Candice said on the other end of the line. “It’ll have to be after lunch though. I need to go run a few errands for my father in a few minutes.”

“That’s fine. I don’t think it’s urgent. Just wanna make sure I didn’t miss anything. You can leave them on my desk when you get back, I’m gonna be in court with Mr Sandsman this afternoon.”

“Will do. By the way, Luke called here yesterday looking for you. I told him you were sick at home.”

Suddenly things were making a little more sense...  _So that’s why Luke came over in the middle of the day._  Niall had been wondering about that.

A few hours later, Niall was able to hear about it from Luke first-hand. The two of them had agreed to meet up at the bakery-slash-cafe across the street from Niall’s office, which was not too far from where Luke himself was having a morning meeting at the production company overseeing a movie he was looking to direct in the near future.

Niall raced across the street shortly after noon, not wanting to be late. Luke was  _always on time_. And indeed, when Niall walked into the bakery he found Luke already seated, laughing with the blushing old waitress as she took his order. Luke beamed as soon as he looked up and noticed Niall walking towards him.

Niall smiled back at him. He really did like Luke, and it was nice to be reminded why. Luke was one of those  _good_  guys and Niall was well aware that he was a great catch.

When Niall reached Luke’s table, he greeted him with an out-of-breath, “Hi!” He was just about to sit down across from him when Luke stood up and pulled him into a hug. “Hey,” he said back as he squeezed. “How’re you feeling?”

“ _Much_  better. Feel like a brand new man today.” They moved to sit down in their respective seats.

“I ordered us lemon meringue pie and coffee while I was waiting for you, I hope that’s okay.”

Actually Niall wasn’t really a fan of lemon meringue pie - he was more of a chocolate cake kinda dude - but he just nodded. It wasn’t really important what they ordered, he was more preoccupied and nervous over the fact that there was currently a huge elephant in the room. And it was obvious that neither of them really knew how to bring it up.

Niall began tentatively, “Look, can I just apologise for yesterday. I don’t even know exactly what happened between you and Zayn but wherever he’s involved, it’s never anything good.”

Luke nodded slowly as he fiddled with the salt shaker in front of him. “Yeah, uh. It was strange to say the least...I called your office phone yesterday and someone - a secretary I think - answered and said you were sick. So I went over to your apartment.”

“And found Zayn.”

“Yeah, and found Zayn,” Luke replied wryly. “He didn’t even want to let me in. He kept saying you were sick and shouldn’t be disturbed. So naturally, I asked if I could come in and see you for myself, even if just for a moment.”

Niall groaned internally. Zayn was such a  _nuisance_. “I’m sorry. I had no idea any of this was going on. I was passed out.”

Luke set the salt container down and looked Niall in the eye. “What’s the story with you two? I mean, I’ve pretty much worked out that you used to date. But you never talk about him. And yet when you’re sick, you call him to come over and take care of you?”

“That is  _so_ not how it happened. He invited himself over. And then he just stayed.”

“Niall.” Luke reached across the table and entwined their hands together.  “I really like you. You know that already. All I’m asking is that you be straight with me. I try my best to avoid drama as much as possible and this thing with you and your ex just _screams_  drama. What’s the deal?”

In that moment Niall felt like he would be spending the rest of his life defending himself against Zayn-related accusations. “There is no deal. I swear. We broke up over a year ago...Okay I'll admit, we were together for quite a long time and yes, there were a lot of feelings there. But it ended. It’s over. We only recently got back in contact, and it’s just for work.”

“Are you sure  _he_  knows it’s just for work?” Luke asked dubiously, his eyebrow angling upwards.  “I’m just saying, he was acting like a jealous boyfriend yesterday. The whole time, he looked like he was about three seconds from punching me in the face. My mere presence seemed to piss him off.”

“What happened exactly, why did he make you leave?” (Niall wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer.)

“Well." Luke wiggled his eyebrows up and down, making Niall laugh. "When your weirdo ex-boyfriend finally let me in, all I said was that he was free to go if he wanted and I’d stay with you. That didn’t go down too well with him...Niall, he obviously still has feelings for you -“

“No, it’s a little more complicated than that,” Niall interrupted.

“I don’t think it is,” Luke said gently.  “Look, I’m not judging you. And I’m not accusing you of anything. I do trust you. I just think there’s more to this, at least for him.”

“But I’m with you now. And that means something to me.”

Luke smiled genuinely for the first time since they’d started the conversation. “I’m really glad to hear you say that. Like I said, I like you. I know we’re kinda taking this slow, but I - I guess I just want you to know I’m very happy I met you.”

“Yeah. Me too.” And that was another reason why Niall liked what he and Luke had - it felt  _easy_ , and maybe it wasn’t exactly the deep burning passion and intensity that Niall used to have with another person but maybe this was a good thing - after all, in the end, all that passion and intensity hadn’t gotten him anywhere.

........................

**The afternoon that Zayn was due to come back from England/California (who the fuck really knew where he was??), Niall got out of bed very early after a night of sporadic sleep and he spent the morning vigorously cleaning their apartment, mostly as a way of releasing some of the pent-up nervous energy humming through his entire body. For the past few days, since Niall had spoken to Harry, his emotions had been fluctuating between bewildered confusion and hot burning rage; and then there was a more constant feeling - an uneasiness, a hunch that the two of them wouldn’t be able to recover from this...whatever _this_ was.**

**When Zayn walked into their apartment at just after two o’clock in the afternoon, a bulky wheeled suitcase trailing behind him, Niall rose to meet him from where he’d been waiting on the couch for the past hour. They stood in front of each other for a couple of seconds, Zayn with a small smile on his face while Niall looked back at him impassively.**

**Zayn was the first to speak. “Hey.” He pulled Niall into what felt like a tentative hug. “I missed you.”**

**“Really.” Niall retorted coolly, extracting Zayn’s arm from around his waist.**

**“What’s that supposed to mean?”**

**Niall ignored the question and responded with one of his own, “Where were you? This week. Where’ve you been?” He stepped away from Zayn altogether.**

**“Huh? I told you before I left. I went to go see my cousin.” Zayn didn’t look him in the eye as he said that, and Niall’s stomach clenched in fury all over again.**

**“ _Where_?” He prodded.**

**There was a beat of tense silence. “In Bradford?” Zayn obviously knew that something was wrong here but wasn’t sure of how to respond, or maybe he was trying to work out how much Niall knew.**

**“Are you asking me? Do you not know where you were? Maybe check your plane ticket if you can’t quite recall,” Niall spat out angrily.**

**“What the hell is your problem? I just walked in literally three seconds ago and you’re attacking me!” Zayn began to drag his suitcase towards the bedroom, shaking his head as he retreated.**

**But Niall followed right behind him. “Stop trying to deflect. I’m going to ask you one more time and maybe you should think really carefully about how you answer... Where were you, Zayn?”**

**They stopped short in the hallway right outside their bedroom and Zayn whirled around to face him. “For fuck's sake. If you have something to say, just spit it out, Niall. You obviously already have your own ideas about where I was.”**

**Niall laughed humourlessly as he ran his eyes over Zayn’s face. In the back of his mind he was trying to work out when exactly had his boyfriend turned into this complete stranger. “You know what I find funny here? - You have the nerve, the _sheer nerve_ , to actually speak to me like that, like I’m the one in the wrong. You have no shame whatsoever.”**

**Zayn didn’t say anything, didn’t even attempt to defend himself. Niall couldn’t tell whether his silence was because he was feeling bad or whether he genuinely just didn’t give a shit. The more the silence went on, the more Niall thought it was the latter option.**

**Closing his eyes for a moment, Niall probed a bit more calmly, “What were you doing in California, Zayn? And why did you lie to me about it?”**

**Zayn crossed his arms over his chest. A defence mechanism. “Who told you I went to California?”**

**“ _That’s_  all you have to say? You’re worried about who told me??” Niall literally couldn’t believe his ears.**

**“It’s a valid question.” At the ferocious look Niall shot his way a second later, Zayn finally seemed to back down. “Jesus, if looks could kill... Calm down. I went to L.A. to take care of some business with Miles. No big deal. Can we just drop this? I’m really tired, I want to go sleep.”**

**Zayn moved to enter their bedroom but Niall stepped in front of him and blocked his way. “I couldn’t give a fuck if you're about to collapse from exhaustion, I’m not dropping anything. _Why did you lie to me_? And what’s worse, you lying about that is only the tip of the iceberg- what’s this I hear about a private investigator?”**

**Niall would’ve laughed at the blanched look on Zayn’s face right then, if it didn’t also kind of make him want to cry. It became blatantly obvious in that moment that Harry hadn’t gotten anything wrong - there was definitely a PI involved and Niall wasn’t supposed to know about it.**

**“Wha- who told you that? Who’ve you been talking to?” Zayn choked out, his eyes gone wide.**

**“I swear to God, Zayn.” Niall took in a deep breath to steady himself. “Stop fucking asking me who told me this, who told me that. And start telling me what the hell is going on.”**

**“I can explain...” Zayn started tentatively. But that’s all he said.**

**“So explain!” Niall bellowed, finally losing his cool once and for all. “What the hell are you doing with a private investigator? What is he investigating exactly? Why are you carrying around papers with details of my whereabouts? Fucking explain, Zayn!”**

**Zayn looked even more nervous, if anything. “I will. Just please, calm down... _Fuck_. You weren’t supposed to find out. I didn’t hire him myself. But I - I was just trying to make sure.”**

**“Make sure of _what_?” Niall vaguely registered Zayn reaching for his hand and leading them to sit on the edge of their bed.**

**They sat perched on the edge, neither of them looking at each other.  Niall withdrew his hand from Zayn’s and that’s when Zayn finally looked across at him and started to talk. “I wanted to make sure that what Miles was saying wasn’t true. About two months ago, he came to me after one of our meetings at the agency. And he said he was worried that you were, um... somehow managing to negotiate a portion of all my earnings... to keep for yourself.”**

**Niall stared at him blankly for a moment, not quite comprehending what Zayn was trying to say here. Eventually he stammered out, “Stealing? That _is_  what you’re saying, right? You think I would  _steal_  from you? After all these years, after everything we’ve been through - that’s what you think of me?” Niall could barely get the words out past the tight burn in his throat.**

**“No. I mean - I would’ve never thought that was even remotely possible. But then Miles played me a recording of something you said.”**

**Just when Niall thought things couldn’t get any more absurd. “What the hell was Miles recording me for? When was this?”**

**Zayn shifted uncomfortably and looked down at his lap. “It was at that shoot I did for Sachs a couple months ago. Remember, you came with me. He sometimes records footage for the agency to use for like, I don’t know, recruitment stuff. And he said that when he was looking over the footage a few days later, he came across a conversation you were having with one of your friends...” Zayn paused and looked at Niall intently as though he were waiting for him to suddenly confess : _Oh yeah! Now I remember! The time I took all your money! Must have slipped my mind._**

**All Niall did was stare back at him and spit out, “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”**

**Zayn fidgeted around in his pocket and retrieved his cellphone. “Um, Miles sent me the audio. Because I didn’t believe him when he first told me. I don’t know if...you wanna listen to it.”**

**Niall shrugged and gestured for Zayn to play it - it wasn’t like things could get any worse, right. Zayn pressed a few buttons on his phone and Niall heard his own voice saying agitatedly:**

**_“I’m so tired of his shit Sean, don’t know how much more I can take... I'm fucking bored lately, more than anything else, same thing day in day out...But I haven’t stuck with this all these years to come away with nothing...Yeah man he has no clue...Well I only gotta stick it out for a few more months then I’ll finally be fucking free. I can’t wait.”_ **

**When the audio ended, Niall said coldly, “That’s it? That 20 second recording is your entire rationale for suddenly believing I’m capable of doing something so terrible to you? Aren’t you even gonna ask me what I was _actually_  talking about there? In fact, why didn’t you ask me the day you first heard it?”**

**“I wanted to ask you. But I didn’t want to accuse you of something. How would that’ve made you feel?”**

**Niall stood up abruptly - he couldn’t even look at Zayn, never mind sit right next to him. “So instead you thought it would be better to accuse me behind my back? Plot with Miles _behind my back_? I cannot even wrap my head around any of this. It’s fucking insane. Never mind the fact that I would never in a million years do anything to betray you. Never mind that! How about you tell me exactly  _how_  I supposedly had access to any of your money?”**

**Zayn tugged on Niall’s arm, forcing him back down. “You helped Miles look over a few of my contracts...and he said that sometimes you would take them home and make your own corrections and suggest, um, rephrasings for some of the stuff.”**

**“Yeah, so? You asked me to do that! I was making sure nobody was screwing you over and now you’re saying I’m the one who was screwing you over?”**

**Zayn chewed on his bottom lip for a moment and continued, “I did ask you to look things over. Miles said he saw some strange things in one or two of the documents when he looked through them later, something about an exorbitant third-party representation fee that he swears wasn’t there before.”**

**“Miles said, Miles said, Miles said!” Niall exploded. “And what was Zayn saying during all this? You do have the ability to think for yourself, last time I checked?”**

**“I didn’t want to believe it. I still don’t really believe it -“**

**Niall interjected harshly, “Don’t really believe it? Don’t _really_  believe it? Meaning you’re not sure.”**

**“I didn’t know what to think.” Zayn looked around the room as though he could find some answers there. “Of course my first instinct was to say you’d never do that to me. But when he showed me the evidence right there in black and white, what was I supposed to think?”**

**Hot tears began to fill Niall’s eyes and he angrily blinked them away. He turned to face his boyfriend. “You were supposed to think you’ve known me for years. And fuck, that I _love_  you. I don’t know about you, but those words actually mean something to me. Even if you were presented with a mountain of this supposed evidence, you should’ve come to me and talked to me about it. Instead you hired an investigator to follow me around - do you even understand how insane that is? How could you do that?”**

**Zayn rubbed a hand over his face and protested rather unconvincingly, “I’m not the one who hired him though! Miles and his team were talking about laying criminal charges against you. Because according to them, technically you were cutting into the agency’s money too. So they wanted to protect their interests. Then they got hold of some information which suggested that you were...maybe cheating on me. And that you were going to break things off with me as soon as you had stashed - well, stashed enough.”**

**Niall actually laughed out loud and he had a feeling that it sounded a lot like that of a crazed man. “Enough? Just say it- enough _money_ , right? I honestly can’t believe any of this. Who are you right now?”**

**“So you’re saying you didn’t do it.” Zayn looked slightly dubious.**

**“You know what, fuck you!” Niall had to clench his hands to keep from shoving Zayn or doing something worse. “I’m not even going to defend myself against you and your new so-called-friends, who by the way don’t actually give a _fuck_  about you! It’s too late for you to be asking what I did or didn’t do. If you had come to me two months ago and asked me, yeah I probably would’ve been pissed that you even had to ask me in the first place but I also would’ve appreciated it more than what you ended up doing.”**

**Niall rose and stormed over to the closet where he began haphazardly throwing things into an overnight bag. Pausing briefly, he turned back around to fix Zayn with a hard stare. “Criminal charges, Zayn? You and your crew of idiots could’ve ruined any chance of a future for me. Do you have any idea how hard it would be for me to get hired as a lawyer if any of these dumb charges had actually gotten me sent to court!”**

**Zayn evidently didn’t have an answer for that because he just looked down at his hands. Niall continued packing, stalking to and from the bathroom as he collected a few more things. Eventually Zayn asked quietly, “Where are you going?”**

**Niall hoisted the straps of his bag over his shoulder and started to walk towards the bedroom door. Without looking back, he mumbled, “I’m going to stay at my parents’. I can’t be here right now.”**

**Niall walked out and Zayn didn’t try to stop him.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whole chapter = flashback

When you felt as sad and furious and heart-broken as Niall did, there was only one solution, of course. In the short term anyway. And that was to get utterly, mind-numbingly drunk.

On the first day he spent at his parents house after leaving the apartment he shared with Zayn, Niall took the sober mature approach. But after a sleepless night with nothing but his own thoughts to keep him company, he realised that all he really wanted to do was to  _forget forget forget_.

He lay awake most of that first night trying to make sense of the senseless situation, wracking his brain trying to figure out what he could have ever done in the past to make Zayn think he was capable of something so horrible. Running through his mind was a constant jumble of frantic thoughts and conflicting feelings, and he didn’t really know which ones to focus on.

And it wasn’t even that his emotions were swinging from angry to sad to confused, one minute to the next. No, he felt them all at once in their merciless entirety and it was the worst thing he’d ever experienced.

One thought that popped up around the time that the sun was just starting to rise was that he suddenly had a lot more sympathy for all the writers behind those moody angsty songs Harry liked so much - before this, he’d honestly never fathomed that it was possible to carry around so much pain. He’d never been hurt to this extent by another person, and he wondered how people were able to get over heartbreak at all and move on, carry on with their lives. Surely this depth of emotional turmoil was something that stayed with you forever.

The thing which probably hurt more than anything - more than the heap of insane lies - was the realisation that Zayn didn’t love him anymore. What Zayn had done and the way he’d treated Niall, these were not the actions of somebody who loved you. And  _that_  was the part of all of this that Niall could hardly bare to think about: he loved Zayn -  _still_  loved Zayn - more than he could even put into words. But somewhere along the way Zayn stopped feeling the same way.

This was the ultimate betrayal, the one thing Niall couldn’t take on without feeling like he was on the verge of an emotional breakdown. It was over. The two of them were over. That much was obvious.

All those years and everything they’d gone through together, all of it down the drain and obliterated in the space of one day.

So, after the miserable night in his childhood bed spent thinking about all this, Niall decided he’d done enough thinking, thank you very much. And he’d also had enough of his mother’s worried eyes watching him constantly and his father’s unhelpful advice to “just sort things out. Whatever happened, it doesn't matter in the long run. Sit down, share some beers, you’ll be laughing about everything in 5 minutes.” If only things were that simple. Oh, if only.

Niall enlisted the help of Sean and some of his law school buddies and gave them two simple instructions: 1)  _Take me somewhere - anywhere - as long as there’s loud music and an insane amount of cheap alcohol._  2)  _Don’t ask me about Zayn. Don’t talk about Zayn. In fact, don’t talk to me about anything even remotely serious._

And that was how Niall found himself at Club Zeus on Saturday night, getting increasingly drunker and drunker as the evening progressed. Zeus was a dingy packed nightclub, situated in his classmate Josh’s neighbourhood and frequented by college students and 17 year-olds with dubious fake ID’s. Niall, Sean, Josh and Sandy kept downing beer after beer, shot after shot - which probably wasn’t the wisest thing to do. But Niall just kind of  _really_ needed to have some fun and/or feel numb.

It worked too because sometime after they’d been at Zeus for roughly an hour, Zayn fleetingly crossed his mind and he was able to blast the thought away by concentrating on the Rihanna song pounding throughout the entire room as he continued to dance with his group of friends. (None of them were particularly gifted in the dancing department but luckily for them, when trashed out of your mind small issues like lacking talent or ability don’t really register.)

Even in his intoxicated state, he wasn’t so rusty in the dating department that he couldn’t tell there were a few people in the club blatantly checking him out. A couple of guys, a blonde girl. He resisted the temptation to walk up to each and every one of them and say (slur) something that would probably go like this, “Stop right there. I know what you’re thinking.  _I’m hot, you’re hot, let’s be hot together?_  But unfortunately for you I’ve recently - as of this morning to be exact - ...what was I saying? Oh. I’ve decided to become a monk. As soon as possible. As soon as I figure out how the whole monkhood thing works.”

Instead of this long speech (a variation of which his friends had already heard during the walk over to the club) Niall settled on ignoring any and all flirtatious long looks and shy grins. He wasn’t about to fall for  _that_  ever again.

Which was maybe how David managed to worm his way into Niall’s group in the middle of the dance floor and make them all laugh throughout the night before finally turning his attention to his intended target, Niall. David was anything but shy or subtle or reserved. So he had none of the characteristics that reminded Niall of the one person he was trying not to think about that night.

 _Although technically Zayn isn’t really shy, not after you really get to know him anyway,_ Niall mused to himself as he bopped along to one of the slower songs of the night. _Shy isn’t the right word. He’s introspective sometimes. Thoughtful - spends a lot of his time just...quietly thinking about things that interest or worry him. He’s more of a modest observer than an active participant._

 _...Dammit_. Where did that come from? Thinking about Zayn hurt. And Niall was already really fucking tired of hurting. _Get out of my head!!!_

“What was that?” David stepped closer to Niall as he spoke, laughing. “Am I in your head, baby?”

For a moment, Niall hazily wondered whether David was psychic and was about to ask him so. But he came to his (admittedly impaired) senses just in time. “No. Uh, I didn’t mean to say that out loud!” Niall yelled over the blaring music.

David laughed again, Hollywood-perfect white teeth flashing in the darkened room. “Dance with me!” He took Niall’s hand and pulled him a little distance away from his group of friends. Niall let himself be led - after all, he liked dancing.

They danced for a while and as they did Niall subtly took in David’s features from head to toe - really tall guy, light brown hair, brow ring, green eyes, averagely cute face, some more piercings along his ears, muscular underneath the expensive sweater and holey jeans he had on. All in all, not really Niall’s type. But then Niall reminded himself he didn’t have a type anymore.

“You’re cute. Niall, you said your name was? And you know what else, you're really fucking sexy and it's like you're not even trying to be,” David was saying just as Niall’s gaze travelled back up to his face. “I’m not going to ask if you’re single because you’re probably not and I don’t wanna know. I am gonna ask you this though, can I kiss you?”

Niall froze for just a milli-second because his immediate instinct was to resist. In that split second the thought running through his mind was that there was only one person in the world he wanted to be kissing - his boyfriend, and Niall was not the type to be unfaithful to him. But then he quickly remembered what the situation really was.

Niall leaned in and captured David’s lips against his own without a further thought, holding them there for a few seconds as he got used to the feel of a mouth that was so different to what he was accustomed to. David apparently did not need the time to get used to anything, because he quickly prodded Niall’s lips open with his tongue and deepened the kiss with sure intent. It was kinda...nice. Maybe. Actually no it was definitely nice, just not amazing. Niall hadn’t even been aware he’d gotten so used to  _amazing_  that he almost took it for granted. But still, nice was...nice. For lack of a better word. It felt quite freeing to be making out with a guy in a random club, no strings attached, minimal chance of ever seeing this dude again in the future.

So when David pulled away from the heated kiss to utter the most eye-roll inducing cliched phrase known to man, “So, do you wanna take this back to my place?” - Niall agreed with a simple nod.

And when he told Sean and Josh that he was leaving with David, he pretended not to notice their surprised raised eyebrows and subsequent disapproving looks.

Whatever. He wasn’t hurting anybody and he didn’t owe anyone an explanation for what any of his coming actions might entail.

.........................

Three days of partying later (and one more crazy one-night-stand later), Niall had come down from his temporary alcohol-fuelled high. The freedom to hookup as he pleased no longer seemed that appealing.

It was a Tuesday and he was moping around his parent’s house after his classes, trying not to think about how much he missed his apartment. The apartment he shared with Zayn was definitely not as grand or elaborate as his parent’s mansion, but it was theirs. Every single item inside that apartment, they’d went out and bought together, down to the last plate.

Their bed was a wonderful, slightly impractical, wicker bed that Niall had insisted they buy after Zayn spent way too much time looking longingly at it inside the furniture store. The large pretty red and blue rug covering the wooden tiles of the living room floor had actually been bought to deliberately hide the aftermath of a tense argument that had somehow turned into an impromptu food fight where they’d laughed until they had tears rolling down their faces.

Their bookshelf in the small spare-bedroom-turned-study was crammed to full capacity with the thick historical fiction novels and biographies Zayn loved to read (and Niall loved to flip through whenever he passed the shelf, just to try to kind of understand what about them appealed to Zayn so much.) Beside the bookshelf was Niall’s desk where he would study in the evenings, blushing a little more and more as minutes crept by because Zayn would be on the recliner inside the study pretending to read or listen to music through his earphones but he would actually just kind of be watching Niall. Eventually that would result in a sheepish: “Zayn, stop it. Read your book or else I’m banishing you to the living room. You’re being creepy and I can’t concentrate.” And in response to that, a grin and: “I like looking at pretty things. Sue me.”

That apartment was home. And Niall missed home.

Except it wasn’t really home anymore, was it.

So Niall moped around the mansion, feeling pretty sorry for himself. He moped for a myriad of reasons: his relationship was over and he didn’t even fully understand why; he was technically homeless; he had a shitload of final-year exams coming up and he was in no state to do them any real justice; he didn’t want to tell anybody the reason why he’d left Zayn because firstly it was pretty embarrassing to admit that your own (ex) boyfriend fully believed you were capable of criminal activity and secondly he wouldn’t even know how or where to start explaining.

Later that Tuesday evening after dinner, was when he got a text from Harry that he would in time regret even reading.

_You have to come over. I don’t know what to do anymore. He’s drunk and he just started crying. I haven’t physically witnessed tears on his face since we were 10._

With a sinking feeling, he typed back: **Come over where? And I take it you’re talking about Zayn. As you probably know he’s no longer any of my business.**

_Yes I’m talking about Zayn. Please. We’re at your apartment. Been here for a few days. I really thought he’d pull it together after the first day or two but he’s getting worse if anything._

**What do you mean by worse**

_I mean he just sleeps and smokes and drinks. The crying is a new development though courtesy of today. He hasn’t gone to any of his appointments or bookings all week. And that bastard Miles keeps calling me all day like I’m supposed to somehow force him to go._

**None of my business. You’re his best friend... This is yours to deal with.**

_Please Niall. At least come talk to him. He just wants you to come home. I've tried everything I can think of. Why is it that the both of you suddenly develop a temporary but extreme drinking problem whenever something bad happens_

**I do not! Anyway I really can’t help you with this one pal. Sorry**

_Do it for me then. He’s my best friend but so are you. Are you really gonna ditch me in my time of need. I know he’s a dick and you have every right to be mad. Just come over, get him to eat something, convince him to take a shower. I might start crying myself! I don't know what to do with him._

And Niall’s willpower pretty much began to crumble in that moment. Why did Harry have to play the friend card. Niall was never one to abandon a friend, especially not one of his best friends. With a grumbling sigh, he typed out: **Fine I’m on my way. But only because I’m practically running around naked here. I left all my clothes over there so I need to pack some more things.**

_Thank you. I love you, I hope you know that. Sorry to put this on you but I can’t get through to him._

**If I end up killing him, blood’s on your hands buddy**

**.......................................**

Around an hour later, Niall was using his key to get into the apartment. The scene before him when he stepped inside brought one word to mind: _Home._  Everything still looked exactly the same, he noted with some surprise. After the upheaval that had occurred, he was almost expecting some of the damage to somehow be reflected in the apartment the two of them used to share together. And when he looked at Zayn lying on the couch on his back with his eyes closed, Niall felt a surge of hot bitter fury all over again. Because Zayn had fucking ruined  _everything_.

As Niall walked towards one of the arm chairs, Zayn opened his eyes and turned his head towards him. He then completely stunned Niall with the sudden vigour of his next words. "Niall, you’re here. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ve been such an idiot. Please. Are you coming back home?” Much to Niall's surprise Zayn began crying, first just a couple streams down his cheeks then quiet sobs magnified by the tense silence of the room as he covered his face. So apparently Harry hadn’t been exaggerating about today’s new development. Harry was now standing in the background looking mildly uncomfortable.

No part of Niall enjoyed watching Zayn cry, but that still didn’t really change the crux of the matter. He sat down and settled back against the chair. Flatly he replied, “I can’t do that. I can’t come back. We’re way past that point and we both know it.”

Zayn uncovered his face and Niall nearly looked away from the haunted expression behind his red-rimmed eyes. In a choked voice that didn't really sound like his own, Zayn said beseechingly, “No, no. We’re not. We can’t be. Fuck, I’m so fucking sorry Niall. I don’t even know what I was - I just don’t know...”

“Uh, look guys,” Harry interrupted quietly, pulling away from where he’d been leaning against the wall on the opposite end of the room.  “I think I should leave. You can’t really talk about everything with me here. But if either of you need me to come back, just call and I will.” He gathered his phone, wallet and keys from the coffee table and proceeded towards the front door.

They both watched him leave and then turned back to look each other. With Harry gone, the mood immediately became even more tense.

Niall leaned over to grab the remote control from the coffee table but he didn’t switch the TV on, instead he broke the silence. “So what new 'evidence' suddenly surfaced that proves my innocence?” Niall hoped he was saying this in a light bored tone, but he had a feeling it sounded bitter to the core. Nonetheless he continued, “A few days ago you were convinced I was a common thief. As well as a cheater who was on the verge of running away with all your money to spend with my new boyfriend.”

Zayn winced and looked away.  It was hard to keep up with his next words which were said in a drunken rushed blur. “I was an idiot. I’m so embarrassed. There’s no evidence or proof to say you’re innocent. I just know. You left and I knew I’d made a mistake. I wasn’t thinking clearly before. I was confused and I thought I was losing you. I thought you weren’t happy anymore. I wasn’t sure about anything. I was doing all that stuff behind your back so that I could be  _sure_. I was so stupid. I  _know_  you.”

Niall switched the TV on and flicked through the channels until he settled on some reality singing competition. He knew Zayn was waiting for an answer and he was going to make him really wait for it. As one minute stretched into the next, eventually Niall asked the one follow-up question he had to everything Zayn had said, “What did I ever do or say to make you think I wasn’t happy?”

Zayn was quicker with his answer, swinging his legs over to sit upright and subsequently clutching his forehead and looking a little green as he did. When he had more or less recovered: “It wasn’t anything you did. All of this is my own issues. All me... I love you so much. I just need you to come back.” He rose from the couch to kneel in front of where Niall was sitting a few feet away. Zayn’s gait was a bit unsteady. He took Niall’s hands and kissed the back of each of one. “Please.  _Please_. I’ll do anything you want. Even if you stay mad at me for months and make me sleep on the couch for a year, as long as you just come home.”

Niall shook his head. But he didn’t take his hands back. “I can’t do that. I can’t just pretend none of this ever happened!”

“You don’t have to. Just, don’t give up on us. Don’t give up on me. You and me can get through anything.” Zayn sounded so sure.

“I wish that was true.”

“It is true. Look, I- I’ll stop modeling!” He exclaimed suddenly. “All this crazy showbiz stuff is the reason we started having problems in the first place.”

Niall leaned back and stared at him, checking if he was actually being serious. And well, he was actually being serious. “I would never ask you to do that, Zayn. I’d never  _want_ you to do that. You love your job. Don’t make sweeping grand statements like that just because you’re under the influence of whiskey.”

But Zayn’s eyes were surprisingly focused. “I do love my job. But it's just a job. I love you more. I was serious when I said I’d do anything. To get you back. This isn’t the alcohol talking.”

Niall voiced the thought that had been running very prominently through his mind for days, “If you really loved me, you wouldn’t have done any of the things you did. Saying you'll leave your job doesn't change that."

“I’m fucking this up right now, aren't I. I fuck everything up...Trust me, I know I don't deserve you at all. But I do love you.”

When Niall didn’t say anything, Zayn grabbed his hands tighter and pulled them both to their feet. He leaned in and Niall vaguely wondered why Harry had been so insistent on Zayn having a shower - smelled pretty damn good to Niall. He smelled like he always did. Zayn moved in and slowly placed a soft sure kiss below Niall’s ear and another along his jawline, and Niall didn’t quite have the strength to move away. Zayn murmured there against his jaw, “Do  _you_  still love me?”

After a pause, Niall mumbled reluctantly, “Yeah. But -“

He was gently interrupted. “No buts. We love each other. I know you’re furious right now but if we keep loving each other, we can work through all of this.”

Niall couldn't really believe the nerve of this guy- wasn't this the same person who just a few days ago had been going around behind Niall's back and treating him like he didn't even matter? “Love is clearly not enough. You proved you don’t trust me! And somewhere deep inside you think I’m capable of some pretty terrible things. You took the word of some guy you've known for a few months over me. I can’t get past any of that.” Niall pushed him away and began to walk towards the hall in the direction of the bedroom and study.

Before Zayn could ask, Niall provided an answer, “Need to pack some more clothes. And my textbooks. Have you seen my guitar?”

Zayn was right behind him, following him as he moved throughout the apartment. Unsteady and wobbling every few seconds.

Remembering his promise to Harry, Niall turned to him and enquired, “When was the last time you ate, Zayn?” Zayn gave a sad shrug of his shoulders and it was clear that he really didn’t know. Niall sighed and continued packing a few pairs of jeans.

“Please come here.”

Niall didn’t stop what he was doing. “Why?”

“I just wanna do something. Please? It’s important?”

Making it obvious that he found this whole thing very tedious and a colossal waste of his time, Niall stomped over to where Zayn stood near the foot of their bed.

Zayn simply gazed into his eyes for a long time, his face shifting into a soft sad smile. “This may be the last time I ever get to do this. So just let me please?” Before Niall had time to think any further, Zayn’s lips were suddenly against his and fuck fuck fuck, he was reminded again what  _amazing_  was, as opposed to the mere  _nice_  hooking up he'd been doing the past few days. Amazing. Wonderful. Head swimming. Butterflies swirling in his belly. All of that. Fuck. Fuck fuck. He knew that he should probably offer some form of resistance but how could he? How could he, when all this time that he'd been thinking about how much he missed home, that hadn't been quite right - what he'd been missing was this. Missing Zayn to be specific.

Out of pure instinct or habit, Niall’s arms came up around the back of Zayn’s neck and Zayn’s arms latched onto his waist. And yeah, Zayn tasted quite strongly of alcohol but he also tasted of something heart-achingly familiar. And Niall wondered a bit desperately if he’d ever stop craving him. Their tongues prodded and eloped and merged, and it was obvious that nobody else, not any hot guy or girl in some sweaty club, would ever compare to this.  _Why did I even bother trying,_

he thought.

In the back of his mind, he knew that he should probably stop this. They weren’t supposed to  _do_ this anymore. But the last thing he wanted was to stop. Zayn’s hands roamed up and down his back, under the material of his t-shirt, as he slowly rocked their groins together, back and forth, the pressure there mounting every time they made contact, Zayn eventually clasping onto the cheeks of Niall’s butt for better grip.  Niall heard groaning and he wasn’t entirely sure who it was coming from. All he knew was that it was an injustice of the universe to get this hard so quickly. He could barely think straight past the obvious thoughts of laying Zayn down and fucking into him.

A minute later, Zayn pulled away with his eyes locked on Niall and his red lips swollen and utterly inviting. He fell backwards onto the bed, eyes now closed, as he waited. Niall knew exactly what he was waiting for. Fuck. As Niall deliberated internally and tried to summon the willpower to walk away, Zayn uttered one strained word. “Please.” And Niall was done for. He couldn’t take off his shoes and sweatpants quickly enough but when that was accomplished, he practically dived onto the bed and then crawled over to where Zayn had shed his own shirt and jeans. Their eyes met as Niall moved on top of him and in that moment, Niall tried to think of one single reason why this was wrong. It felt anything but wrong.

“Stop thinking so much,” Zayn whispered up at him.

“Okay.” And it was as simple as that really.

Zayn was panting below him, his chest quickly rising and falling as he tried to lift off Niall’s tank with one hand and slide between his bare ass cheeks with the other hand. Niall decided to lend some assistance and he lifted his tank top away from where it had bunched around his chest, throwing it somewhere across the room. He swooped down again to taste Zayn’s lips once more. Seconds later he wrapped his arms around Zayn’s neck, turning the two of them over so that Zayn was on top. He continued to kiss him and he trailed his nails down Zayn’s back. Even though he knew Zayn liked this Niall was still caught a bit off guard when suddenly Zayn jerked and arched his back, digging his teeth into his bottom lip as he did.

So Niall did it again, raking his nails halfway up his back and then back down to just dip into the line of his ass. This time Zayn dropped his head against Niall’s shoulder and tried to push his ass into a position that would make Niall’s fingers travel lower. His own heart racing as he looked up at the beautiful infuriating man already unravelling on top of him, Niall granted his wish and slotted his hand into place, using the tip of his forefinger to run around the rim of the hole in deliberate circles before he pushed in completely. Zayn’s immediately began pushing down onto it, rising up and down with his eyes squeezed shut.

When Niall began to add another finger, Zayn clutched him tighter and urged, “Please. Can you just...I can... You don’t need to...Please.” Apparently they were past the point of being able to form full sentences.

Zayn popped up and leaned across their bed to grab the lube from one of their bedside drawers, and then proceeded to slather Niall up, his hands shaking just as much as Niall suspected his own were. Zayn then got on to his hands and knees without further communication, facing the headboard with his hands clenched around the bedding. Without really planning to, Niall dug his fingers into the flesh on Zayn's upper back, pretty fucking hard, before drawing back to line himself up behind him. He positioned his hands on Zayn’s hips and used the leverage to sink into him completely. Waiting a few seconds until Zayn released the breath he was holding, Niall began to move. And he fucked into him with no real rhythm or grace or gentleness, listening to the cues hidden in Zayn’s subtle reactions to guide him on how hard to go. An intake of breath. A forearm brought to the lips to bite.

Sometime into this, Zayn brought a hand down his body to stroke himself in time to Niall’s thrusts and it seemed like mere seconds later that he was coming. His entire body shook as he released into his hand and Niall followed not long after. He dropped his chest onto Zayn’s back, clutching onto him tightly as he thrust hard into him one more time. He came just as hard as he knew he would, toes curling in an attempt to distract himself as the pleasure became almost too much to bear.

They collapsed onto their respective sides of the bed, dazed.  _You are it for me and for the first time ever, I really wish you weren't._ But Niall didn't say this sad thought out loud.

Zayn tiredly voiced his own sentiments though. “I love you more than anything. I know we can work it out.”

Niall wasn’t completely sure about either of those statements. And he still wasn't convinced that he knew the full extent of what Zayn and Miles had been up to in the last several weeks... After all, everything Zayn had confessed to was only the stuff Niall had found out on his own and confronted him about.

The only thing Niall knew for sure was that Zayn was a hard drug to quit. But just because Niall obviously found it hard to resist him, did not mean that anything had changed, that all was suddenly forgiven. He climbed out of the bed so that he could put his clothes back on and finish packing. As he rose to his feet, the last thing he said was, "You really should eat something... And I'm not one to judge but day drinking is not a good look, I advise you try water instead from time to time."


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starts off in the present day and then you know what bold means

After a long gruelling day in court attending a hearing with Mr Hewlett, and then another trip back to the office to get the files he’d asked Candice to leave for him, the only thing Niall really wanted was to be using his phone to order some Chinese takeout, something along the lines of Singapore noodles with char sui pork and maybe a little crispy duck as well...He really didn’t want to be using his phone to hold a conversation with anyone at that moment and especially not Zayn.

“You promised you’d come over so we could talk,” Zayn was saying. “I gave you some leeway yesterday because you got sick. But you’re better now, I can hear it.”

Niall was currently splayed out along his couch, his tie loosened, his stomach grumbling as he half-listened to Zayn and half-planned his meal order. “Zayn, I’m tired and I’m hungry. I just wanna eat and then sleep. I don’t have the energy to hash everything out with you. I’ll come over tomorrow.” Actually, Niall had a date with Luke tomorrow that he had no intention of cancelling but he’d cross that hurdle when he got there.

“We don’t have to “hash” anything out.” Niall could hear the quotation marks in his voice. “I told you, I just want you to listen Niall. You don’t have to say a word if you don’t want to.”

When Niall didn’t answer, Zayn tried another tactic. “You’re hungry which is  _great_ , because I just happen to be cooking. Look, I swear I won’t waste your time. An hour at the most is all I’m asking for.”

Zayn was a really good cook. And Niall was very hungry.  Ever so nonchalantly, he asked, “What are you making?”

“Just some marinated steaks... Roast potatoes, grilled veggies. And I’ve got chocolate mousse in the fridge.”

When Niall said “Yeah, okay. I’m coming” a few seconds later, it was because steak and chocolate mousse sounded really good and he could put up with Zayn for an hour in order to get it.

Zayn gave Niall the address and when they got off the phone, Niall contemplated changing out of his suit but decided against it. He’d only have to change again to get into bed once he got back home.

So he merely threw off his tie, brushed his teeth, ran downstairs and got into his car.

Zayn’s building was a high-rise of condos in an upmarket suburb in Trenton, New Jersey where a few of Niall’s old school friends used to live, so he was familiar with the area. The security erred on the side of ridiculous, Niall had to go through five different points before he was even allowed to ask Zayn to let him in through the intercom.

After what felt like a really long time later, he was finally allowed inside Zayn’s building, and then up into the elevator. A couple minutes later, a slightly frazzled looking Zayn was opening the door to let him in. The inside of Zayn's condo was technically nice - there was no denying that - but somehow it wasn’t the sort of place Niall would’ve ever pegged Zayn to be living in. Too sparse, too  _beige_. And what was with all the impractical bits of furniture that looked like they came straight out of some avant-garde art deco magazine? Where were the shaggy rugs, overspilling bookshelves, interesting paintings?

Zayn caught Niall looking around and said, laughing a little, “Liam chose it. I only lasted like a month and a half in our apartment after you left. I couldn’t, like - it got too hard. So one day I woke up and called Liam, told him he had three days to find me a place. Poor guy, he was still new to the job back then. I told him to just pick whatever as long as it wasn’t too far from my parent’s house... And well, this is the result of that well-thought-out decision. It came fully furnished,” he finished, rolling his eyes.

“You could always move if you hate it. Or here’s a wild idea, put some stuff in here you actually like,” Niall pointed out with a roll of his eyes of his own.

“Nah. At the moment I don’t care enough to actively hate it. I know what kind of place I  _do_  want but moving house and buying furniture by yourself gets kinda depressing, y’know? So for now I’ll just sit tight.”

Niall shrugged in response as if to say, “Whatever man.” He chose a spot on the least uncomfortable-looking white couch in the vast expanse of the living room.

Zayn sat down right beside him. He looked slightly nervous as he stared down at his hands and gnawed at his bottom lip. Niall had always been somewhat fascinated by the different facets of Zayn’s personality; the way he was incredibly and inexplicably unsure of himself one moment, and then incredibly (but not always convincingly) cocky the next. Zayn eventually turned to him and cleared his throat. “So. Food’s ready. Do you want to eat now? Or you want me to talk first?”

“I came here to eat,” Niall said bluntly. “So I’ll eat while you talk. Or while you talk and eat, makes no difference to me.”

Zayn nodded and stood up looking a touch relieved, probably because he wasn’t expected to talk just yet. “I’ll be back in a sec. You like apple juice, right?”

Niall didn’t  _like_  apple juice. He was kind of obsessed with it. And Zayn obviously knew that, so Niall didn’t think it necessary to answer him.

Watching him walk away, Niall settled back against the couch and thought to himself how it was a bit strange, a bit sad actually, that Zayn knew every last detail about him but somehow hadn’t been able to summon enough of that knowledge to have a little faith in Niall when it counted.

Anyhow. It was a good thing they were finally going to have everything out in the open, once and for all. Maybe this way, that invisible undeniable string still connecting them, currently held together by countless shared memories and a past deep deep bond, would finally be cut.

.........................

**After the fight they had, after Niall’s subsequent move back into his parent’s house (a temporary living arrangement - he kept reminding himself for the sake of his sanity) and after his trip back to his and Zayn's apartment to “fetch some things”, Niall promised himself that giving in and sleeping with Zayn had been a once-off lapse in judgement.**

**He couldn’t deny that he missed him. Nor could he pretend that he didn't still love him. But he could stay the hell away from him and concentrate on passing his final exams and getting job interviews set up. He hadn’t worked so hard in college and law school all these years to throw it all away now.**

**Locked away in his father’s study, Niall spent his days reviewing the old exam papers he’d gotten his hands on and what quickly became clear to him was that memorising dozens of cases and terminology verbatim wasn’t going to get him anywhere. - What he needed was a clear logical mind so that he could apply all he’d learned in the past few years to the random hypothetical complicated legal situations his professors would throw at them. A clear logical mind that wasn't caught up in thoughts of Zayn Malik.**

**Amazingly, Zayn left him alone during this time. For those three weeks, the extent of their communication came in the form of two daily texts from Zayn, the contents of which varied only slightly day to day.**

**The morning one would be something upbeat like: _Have a good day! :D Study hard, you got this!_**

**And then one late at night: _I hope you had a good day. I miss you xx_**

**Niall never responded to either text. He didn’t want to be drawn back in. Texting would lead to calling, which would lead to talking face to face, which would lead to... well he didn't know where it would lead to exactly, but nowhere good.**

**With Zayn, it was all too easy to forget why you were mad at him while you were in his presence and then you had to go through the whole process of beating yourself up about it once you were alone.**

**The temporary truce did not last long, however. The day after Niall’s last exam, he was recovering from the all-night celebratory pub crawl he’d gone on with his law school friends. He passed out in his bed that Saturday morning as soon as he got back in but was rudely awoken just after noon by the sensation of the other side of his bed dipping. He awoke with a start to find Zayn casually sitting next to him, a pillow between his back and the headrest.**

**“Your mom let me in,” Zayn said by way of explanation when Niall continued to stare at him.**

**_Traitor_** **, Niall thought.**

**“Then she made up some bogus excuse about her and your Dad needing to go buy milk at the store. _Then_  she _winked_  at me when they walked out the door,” Zayn continued, laughing now. “I think she thinks you and me are gonna make up and then have hot noisy sex all over her house.”**

**Niall burst out laughing too, mostly due to mortification. “Oh my God. She’s so gross.”**

**“She means well.”**

**They were quiet after that, so Niall closed his eyes again fully intending on sleeping until Zayn gave up and went away. But Zayn had other ideas and the sudden sound of his voice amidst the peaceful quiet forced Niall’s eyes open. “How’d your exams go? I bet you did great.”**

**“Um. I did okay I think,” Niall mumbled.**

**“You always downplay your grades so I’m willing to bet you did better than okay,” Zayn said with a smile in his voice.**

**Then he shifted on the bed for a few moments before abruptly changing the subject. “So a few things’ve been happening since I last saw you.”**

**“Yeah? Miles convince you I’m wanted for murder and arson in 37 states?” Niall asked derisively. He turned onto his side which brought his eyes level with Zayn’s denim-clad upper thigh.**

**“Okay, I deserve that. But no. The exact opposite actually. I had a meeting with Lola two weeks ago - Lola’s the head of the agency.”**

**“And?”**

**“It turns out that what Miles has been telling me this whole time is bullshit.”**

**Niall turned his face upwards to fix him with a cold dirty look and Zayn quickly shook his head and continued hastily, “No, I mean, I already figured out what he said about you taking money from me was bullshit! But turns out the _other_ stuff. Him saying the agency was investigating you and looking into pressing charges against you. That was all lies.”**

**“Oh?” Now Zayn had Niall’s full attention.**

**Zayn lifted his hand and threaded his fingers into the hair at the back of Niall’s head. When Niall visibly stiffened, he seemed to think better of it and took his hand away. He sighed and continued, “Basically what it all boils down to is that I’m really stupid. Everything he said about you is what’s been going on with _him_. Lola told me they recently found out he’s been messing with his clients’ books for about a year now. He only took a little at first, but then he started getting braver and the agency started to notice something funny was going on. So then they brought the police in. They’ve been investigating him for a few months, letting him still do his work so that he’d think nothing was wrong. Meanwhile, they’ve been building a case against him. But somehow he found out about that and he’s been breaking his back the last couple of months trying to pin it on another scapegoat.”**

**“Me.”**

**“You,” Zayn confirmed softly. “But don’t worry, nobody fell for it, not for a second. Well, nobody but me, that is.”**

**“The one person who should’ve had my back,” Niall reminded him.**

**“I know. They should've told me what was going on with him. But really there’s no excuse for what I did. I’m so sorry.”**

**Niall shrugged, even though that awful pain (disguised as anger) was starting to rise up inside him all over again. He’d managed to bury it somewhat while he was concentrating on his exams, but now he had nothing to distract himself from it.**

**Zayn was still talking, “He was working with Angelo. They both got arrested two weeks ago. They’re out on bail at the moment but they’re definitely going down for this.”**

**Angelo was one of Miles’ and Zayn’s “friends” at the agency, a hanger-on who Niall had constantly warned Zayn about. So it was with a slight degree of satisfaction that Niall said, “Well, thanks for telling me I guess. If that’s all, you can go.”**

**“Shit sorry, you must be really tired. Would you rather I come back tomorrow?”**

**That painful anger rose up even higher and Niall attempted to squelch it down. “No. I wouldn’t. Stop being dense, Zayn. I don’t want you to come back tomorrow. I don’t want you to come back at all. It’s done. _We’re_  done.”**

**“But...” Zayn blinked in apparent confusion and if this were any other time or place Niall would’ve laughed at the dumb look on his face.**

**“But what? But _what,_  Zayn?” Niall sat up swiftly and faced him. There was no squelching anything down anymore. “Did you think that after you explained everything about Miles, I’d tell you ‘oh it’s okay, I forgive you’? ‘all’s well that ends well’? Not gonna happen!”**

**“No. I didn’t think it would be that easy. But you’re not even giving me a chance...”**

**“You never gave me a chance either. All those times I begged you to tell me what was wrong!” After breathing in a gulping intake of air, Niall exploded, “Fucking hell! I was losing sleep every night, losing my _mind_  trying to figure out what I did to make you act so different towards me!"**

**“I didn’t know what to say to you.” Zayn gingerly tried to reach for Niall’s hand but was rejected. “I made a horrible horrible mistake, Niall. I’ll make this up to you. I’m so sorry. About everything.”**

**“ _Fuck_  your sorrys, Zayn,” Niall said heatedly. “Seriously, they don’t mean shit right now.”**

**“You have every right to be mad. But are you just going to throw everything away? You’re really ready to move on?”**

**The room fell quiet again as Niall genuinely took the time to think this over. The more he thought about it though, the angrier he became. He wasn’t the one who’d fucked up something that had been as close to perfect as you could get. He wasn’t the one who threw everything away. Eventually he said, making sure to look Zayn dead in the eyes, “I’m not ‘ready’ to move on. I’ve already moved on. I move on almost every Saturday night in fact.”**

**“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” But the frown on Zayn’s face showed he already had an inkling as to exactly what that was supposed to mean.**

**“You want me to spell it out for you? I’ve. Been. Fucking. Other. People. Maybe you should do the same.”**

**Zayn’s face froze. “You’re lying. I don’t believe you.”**

**“Don’t care if you do or don’t.”**

**“Who? When?” Zayn spat out.**

**“What difference does it make?”**

**“It makes a big difference to me! Niall, answer me. When. Who.”**

**“If you insist...” Niall pretended to have a long hard think, even mumbling to himself as he counted things off on his fingers. Zayn’s eyes narrowed.**

**“Well, Zayn. I suppose the most recent one is the easiest to start with. When? Last night. Who? Just a friend of a friend. But the other ones are a bit harder to recall... The first one was about 3 days after I left our apartment. And then there were a few more guys after that. Really don’t know the dates though, sorry about that,” Niall continued breezily. “But don’t worry, I took a break during exams.”**

**“You’re kidding me right now, right? This is your idea of some sick joke. And yeah I deserve it but -“**

**“It’s no joke. We’re broken up, I can sleep with whoever I want. Whenever I want.”**

**Now Zayn grabbed his arm but Niall wrestled free. Undeterred, Zayn took hold of his chin and turned it so that they were forced to look at each other. “We broke up according to who exactly, Niall? We had a fight, you left! I don’t remember either of us saying anything about breaking up. I thought you just needed some time away from me and I’m more than willing to give you that.”**

**“Some time to get over you ripping my heart out and stomping all over it?”**

**“Ye- no. I didn’t...” Zayn trailed off before gaining steam again, “None of that changes the fact that you fucked another person _days_ after leaving me. You sure didn’t waste any time!”**

**“I didn’t leave you. You left me. Months ago. By doing what you did. And there’s no going back. So don’t you dare stand there and judge me. You always play the victim! You’re constantly making your bed, and then refusing to lay in it. I’m not going to let you make me feel like I’m in the wrong here. I haven’t done anything I need to be ashamed of, unlike you.”**

**“You’re slutting around like some cheap whore! You should be ashamed of _that_  and if you’re not then I don’t know who you are.”**

**“Oh we’re resorting to name calling now? You’ve already proved you have no fucking clue who I am.”**

**At that, Zayn shook his head. “I’m trying to understand, Niall. I really am. But I can’t. How could you sleep with _one_  other man, let alone so many? You obviously don’t love me half as much as you claim, if you find it so easy to jump from bed to bed! You probably never did love me.”**

**“Don’t. Don’t even. You do not want to go there with me,” Niall said menacingly, almost in a whisper.**

**“I do want to go there! I’m already there!” Zayn’s eyes were dark now, darker than Niall had probably ever seen them.  “You want to talk about playing the victim, Niall? No matter what happened between us, no matter what fight we had, it would never even cross my mind to go out and sleep with someone who isn’t you! So I really don’t think you can act like you have a monopoly on getting your heart ripped out.”**

**“We’re not together anymore. So if you’re getting all butthurt over this, that’s on you. Not me!”**

**Zayn looked back at him in disbelief. “Let me get this straight... My boyfriend, who never actually told me that he’s apparently not my boyfriend anymore, is fucking around and I’m not supposed to feel anything?”**

**“I did tell you actually. I told you when I came over to fetch my clothes and books.”**

**Zayn raised a sardonic eyebrow. “Oh? You mean the day you came over and had sex with me? Which according to my calculations, was a few days _after_ you slept with your first whore. I cannot fucking believe you!”**

**“Well, believe it." Niall climbed off the bed and stood next to it, he really couldn't stand to be that close to Zayn anymore. "Can you just go please? I’m so sick of all this. I’m sick of _you_  to be exact! It’s not worth it. I’m done, okay. This is not up for discussion. I’m done and that’s it.”**

**“What a coincidence,” Zayn retorted sarcastically. “Because I’m just as done with you actually! I don’t see why I should be bending over backwards for someone who goes around sticking his dick in every hole he can find.” He clambered off the bed too and stood on the opposite side.**

**Niall laughed humourlessly. “Hey to be fair, sometimes I’m the one getting the dick stuck in me. You know I’m flexible that way.”**

**“Do you think you’re funny?”**

**“Not trying to be funny. I’m trying to get you to leave.”**

**“You don’t need to try to get me to leave. I’m leaving! I’m gone.” And he began to move towards the door, hot waves of fury practically emanating from his body.**

**“Good! And don’t come back.”**

**“Wasn’t planning on it, angelface.” With that, Zayn flipped him off and disappeared beyond the doorway.**

 

 

**And that little exchange would be the last they’d see of each other for another year.**

**Even when Niall had to go back to their apartment to haul the rest of his things to his parent’s house, Zayn made sure to not be there and Niall was met instead by Harry. Who was caught in the middle. (“Um, Zayn said you can take whatever you want, like the furniture and stuff. He said he doesn’t care.”) But Niall didn’t take a single thing that he didn’t 100% own himself apart from a few pictures of him with Harry and Zayn’s youngest sisters, and a family heirloom lamp his mother had given them as a housewarming gift.**

**Just like that, it was over.**

**....................**

“You want just one piece of steak?” Zayn yelled from his kitchen.

Niall had moved from his seat on the couch while Zayn was gone and was now exploring the contents of Zayn’s living room, otherwise known as harmless snooping. He yelled back, “Yeah, one’s fine.” Depending on the extent to which Zayn pissed him off as the evening progressed, he would consider whether he could bear to see Zayn’s guaranteed happy little smile if he were to ask him for seconds.

As he continued snooping (looking!) through the scattered magazines on one of the tables, he maybe noticed Zayn’s open laptop and he maybe would have ignored it if he hadn’t seen his own name on an open Facebook chat. Maybe.  _Who the hell still uses Facebook?_

-          **Zayn** : Niall said he’s coming. Shit. Shittttt

-          **Harry** : Um...this is a good thing right? It’s what you wanted

-          **Zayn** : Yes. But I don’t know if I can do this.

-          **Zayn** : It was hard enough getting him to agree to come. If I fuck this up he won’t hear me out a second time

-          **Zayn** : Should I tell him never mind? I need more time!

-          **Harry** : The only way you’ll fuck up is if you keep freaking out. Relax. Take a deep breath.

-          **Zayn** : I can’t. I’m gonna puke

-          **Harry** : Maybe get that out your system before he gets there?

-          **Zayn** : You are like zero help. Tomorrow I’m putting up posters around town for people to apply for the new best friend position that’s just opened

-          **Harry** : :(

-          **Harry** : I love you?

-          **Harry** : I’m trying to help. But the only thing I can tell you is to relax and you’re not listening

-          **Harry** : When you talk to him don’t expect too much all at once.

-          **Zayn** : Right now I’d be ecstatic if he just stopped hating me. I can work from there

-          **Zayn** : I gotta go finish cooking. Talk to you later

Hearing the movements of Zayn shuffling out of the kitchen towards him, Niall hastily moved away from the table and resumed his position on the couch. He couldn’t quite look Zayn in the eye when he was handed a plate of delicious-looking and -smelling food; what he’d done by reading that chat was technically an invasion of privacy. No not "technically", it was.

Zayn paused for a moment and stared at him. “You okay? You look a little...I don’t know...off? You still feeling sick?”

“No, I’m fine. Just hungry.” Which he really was actually. Without further ado, he dug in. Mouth full, “Not sure eating on this white couch is such a good idea. It looks like it costs more than a semester’s college tuition.”

Zayn shrugged as he started eating too. “I wouldn’t know. If you feel that strongly about it though, if you spill anything - actually _when_  you spill something- you can pick up the cleaning tab,” he said with a grin.

“I’m a guest,” Niall reminded him. He was almost successful in hiding his own smile. “Not paying for anything.” 

 


	19. Chapter 19

Niall maybe felt a small degree of sympathy for Zayn. Maybe. Small.

 

If he hadn’t been such a nosy idiot in the first place and read that chat on Zayn’s laptop, he probably wouldn’t be feeling anything at all. It was just that, as the two of them ate their dinner on the couch, every few minutes or so Zayn would start to open his mouth, obviously about to say something. Then he’d look slightly ill or shake his head, closing his mouth again.

  
This was probably why Niall decided to extend a small peace offering after about 10 minutes of this. “This steak’s really good. Like,  _really_  good.”

  
Zayn, who’d been staring down at his plate not actually eating much himself, looked surprised but pleased by the compliment. A shy smile appeared on his face. “Thank you. There’s more if you want...If you want seconds or, to take home with you. If you want.”

  
“Yeah maybe.”

  
This brief exchange seemed to give Zayn a burst of confidence or resolve or something, because next thing he was placing his plate down on the carpet near his feet and turning to Niall, looking slightly less green in the face this time. Niall chose the wrong moment to look directly into his eyes because the penetrating look in them made the pit of Niall’s belly dip and turn. Dip and turn in a way that wasn’t exactly unpleasant though.

  
Zayn sat up a little straighter, exuding an air of calm determination as he said, “I promised you I wouldn’t waste your time. So I’m just gonna talk, okay? Bear with me. Hopefully some of what I say will make sense.

  
“The day we had that last fight, when you told me about all those people you were sleeping with. You were trying to hurt me because I hurt you - and it worked by the way, in case you were wondering. But I shouldn’t have taken the bait. I’m not saying it was right of you to do that. Because it wasn’t. I shouldn’t have let you get me all riled up though. Do you want to know what I  _should_  have done?”

  
It was actually unfair that Zayn’s eyes were so...fucking  _pretty_. There was no other way to describe them really. His eyes were smouldering, slanted, intoxicating intensity embodied. Caramel amber contrasting wonderfully with the sooty thickness of his lashes. How was Niall meant to concentrate on things like chewing his food and listening to what Zayn was saying?

  
Belatedly, Niall shrugged in response to Zayn’s question. “Sure. Why not.” He bit into a piece of roast potato.

  
“I should’ve pinned you down on that bed we were sitting on. And then kissed the hell outta you to get you to shut the fuck up firstly.” Niall sputtered and coughed, chocking a little on the food travelling down his throat, but Zayn just kept casually talking as if he didn’t even notice. “You and I both know you were talking a lot of shit that day...But of course kissing you wouldn’t be easy - you’d fight me in the beginning because you’re stubborn like that. But I’d keep going and when you eventually gave in, I’d get you to the point where you were the one begging for it. I’d get you so turned on you’d be the one tearing my clothes off and telling me to hurry the fuck up. And only then would I fuck you so hard you’d have trouble remembering your own name, never mind the names of those guys you were fucking.”

  
Niall was left completely and utterly speechless by this; his mouth agape, his heart thudding in his chest, his dick beginning to twitch in his pants because he could perfectly picture the exact scene Zayn was painting. Again, Zayn ignored the incredulous manner in which Niall was staring at him.

He just smiled a little and kept talking. “I’d pull out just as you got close. But keep teasing you just enough to keep you right there on the edge. I’d make you apologise for what you did and admit who you really belong with. I’d make you admit that you didn’t want those other guys at all, only me. You’d tell me how sorry you were for letting other men touch you. Then  _finally_ , I’d let you come. And just as you were coming and holding on to me, I’d look into your eyes and tell you that I know I broke your trust but that I’d work every day for the rest of my life earning it back if that’s what it takes.

  
“That’s what I should’ve done,” he finished in a matter of fact tone.

  
He was met with stunned silence. By this point, they’d both completely abandoned their food.

  
A few moments later when Niall did try to open his mouth to say  _something_  - he wasn’t sure exactly what to say to all of that - he was overcome by another coughing fit. Zayn stood up to pour Niall a glass of apple juice from the jug on the coffee table.

  
After handing Niall the glass, he sat back down next to him and continued his little musings right where he’d left off. He was apparently on a roll. “But you’re stubborn. I think I’ve already mentioned that,” he was saying. “There’s no way you would’ve let me off the hook that easy. So I’m thinking, after we got our breath back and put our clothes back on, you would’ve still kicked me out like you did that day and you would’ve still told me not to come back. And yeah, I’d leave like you asked me to. But the difference is that I’d come back the next day. And the day after that. I’d keep coming back. And maybe there’d come a day when you stopped telling me to leave.”

  
Finally Niall found his voice, albeit it was a bit hoarser than his normal one. “A little cocky of you to assume that everything would’ve happened exactly how you imagine in your little fantasies...”

  
Zayn shook his head at that. “But that’s the point, Niall. I’m not assuming anything. I don’t assume that things between you and me would be any different to where we are now. What I’m trying to get across is this, if I’d fought for you like I should have - at least I would know I really  _tried_. Even if things still went to shit after all that, at least I’d walk away knowing I tried my absolute hardest to fix things. “

  
“Yeah well. At least you’d have that to comfort you. Because I can almost guarantee you, we were way past the point of working anything out,” Niall stated adamantly.

  
Strangely, instead of appearing deterred by these words, Zayn smiled softly. “You want to know something? Something that’s probably gonna come out all wrong but I’m gonna say it anyway? Well, the very fact that you’re still so mad at me gives me hope. Sort of.” He took hold of Niall’s hands and pulled him to his feet.

  
Niall rose reluctantly. “Oh, this should be good. Tell me, why does it give you hope?”

  
Zayn squeezed his hands. “Because I know you’re not a vindictive person. I know you’re not the type to carry a grudge for this long. So for you to still be this mad, it means I really really hurt you. - Which is horrible of course.” He nodded emphatically as he said that last bit. “But it kinda gives me hope because the only way you can be hurt that much by someone is if you really loved that person. I know that now. - I have a feeling that I kinda sound like an arrogant jackass right now. But... It’s the truth. It gives me hope because you loved me that much at one time.” Zayn laid a hand on Niall’s waist and gently squeezed before saying, “And I think that’s all I’m gonna say on that. Anything else and I’ll end up putting my foot in it. “

  
The hands on his waist were warm and strangely comforting, so Niall didn’t demand that they be removed. Instead he said, “It’s my turn to be blunt about something. It’s a little frustrating and  _alot_  infuriating to me that only now you decide to be convinced I loved you that much. If you’d just believed it in the first place...” Niall trailed off, really not wanting to get into it all over again.

  
Zayn stilled momentarily as he looked directly at Niall, seeming to be considering something if the thoughtful look on his face was anything to go by. Finally he said, “Look, I’m not going to apologise again for what I did. I mean, I would if I thought it’d do any good. But you’ve heard my apologies and you probably don’t want to hear them anymore. Instead I want to try to explain? Why I did what I did. I’m going to try.”

  
“Be my guest,” Niall said softly, letting it be painfully obvious that he didn’t think anything Zayn had to say would be a credible explanation.

  
Suddenly Zayn tugged on Niall’s arm and began leading him away from the living room, down the passageway that brought them to a much smaller living room on the other side of the condo and past the sliding door that led to his balcony overlooking the city river. It was dark out but the millions of tiny stars dotting the sky easily lit the area for them. There on the wide balcony, Zayn stood with his back pressed against the wall and he pulled Niall in to face him. But once he had Niall where he wanted him, Zayn withdrew his hands and let his arms dangle at his sides.

  
The evening breeze whipping around them was quite cool and instinctively Niall stepped even closer to Zayn for warmth. Zayn obliged, nudging their bodies closer together before withdrawing his hands again. Zayn started to speak. “You’re right, I had trouble believing you loved me that much. I didn’t quite believe I was enough for you.” He swallowed visibly, nervously. And Niall thought to himself,  _Ah finally we get to the crux of what you wanted to talk about this evening._

  
Zayn continued, “The thing is, in the beginning I’m always enough. Men get drawn in by me because I have an attractive face and they think I’m mysterious and dark and hard to figure out. And they like the challenge of trying to figure me out. But eventually they discover that I’m not actually all that mysterious or interesting - I’m just me. And  _just me_  stops being enough.” Zayn shrugged casually, but there was a depth of hurt in his eyes that belied the cool gesture. “After they discover that, they never stick around for long. And most of the time I never used to care all that much. I mean don’t get me wrong, it always hurts to get left but out of the three guys I’ve been in a relationship with - besides you - , I probably maybe loved only one. Even though it hurt each time a man left, I was more upset over the fact that I was so easy to leave and so forgettable.  _Who_  was leaving me wasn’t really the issue anymore.”

  
Niall felt something worryingly akin to irrational jealousy twist inside him at hearing about a man that Zayn used to love.  _Who was he_ , he immediately wanted to ask. Closing his eyes for a moment, he forced that jealousy down, squashed it, demanded that the feeling retreat. There was no place for it.

  
At the same time, Niall took in what he was hearing with some surprise. He of course knew the general gist of Zayn’s past relationships - i.e. that they usually used to end quickly - but he'd always been led to believe that the reason behind those relationships ending had been as simple as two people just getting tired of one another.

  
“But then you came along,” Zayn was saying as his eyes drifted from Niall’s eyes to his lips, back to his eyes again. “And I’d never felt anything like that before. For the first time it was like I really  _wanted_  to be enough. For you, specifically. I hoped I was enough. But the whole time we were together, I think...in the back of my mind - I was kind of waiting for the day when you’d realise I wasn’t what you signed up for. I was dreading that day, but at the same time I was waiting for it. Expecting it. Everybody leaves.”

  
Niall did not understand what Zayn was saying to him. Or rather he understood the words he was hearing, but he didn’t get it. He didn’t get why Zayn would ever feel that way and think that he wasn’t enough. Because Zayn was the most interesting person Niall knew. The best person he used to know. The one person he had been able to imagine himself spending the rest of his life with and having a damn good time in the process.

  
So Niall found himself saying a little angrily, “You don’t really think that about yourself, do you? Because that’s absolutely ridiculous if you do!”

  
“I - I think I did. Back then." He shook his head ruefully, paused, started again. "So, when I started working so much and travelling all the time and having to be away from you, it was all too easy for someone to like, plant that seed in my head. And then when they gave me so-called proof to back up exactly what I was already scared was gonna happen anyway...I suppose in a way I was almost relieved to have that proof. Better I be prepared for you leaving me then for it to happen unexpectedly. It would hurt less that way.” He shrugged again, but his aloofness was just as unconvincing as before.

  
“I wasn't going anywhere. Would've stayed. Happily,” Niall said quietly, without even really thinking about it. They looked at each other sadly in those next moments while those words lay between them. But those words were the truth. Niall knew it. And that was largely the reason why the whole situation sucked so much.

  
Zayn’s gaze flickered across Niall’s face as he nodded. “I believe you now. But I guess it doesn’t really make a difference to you. I don’t expect you to still feel the same way, too much time's passed I guess. You moved on.”

  
Niall didn’t deny it. He had moved on. He’d gotten over Zayn and was with Luke now. Which would explain why Niall was currently annoyed with himself - because what he wanted more than anything in that moment was to throw his arms around his ex, kiss the hell out of those lush lips and maybe never let go. What. What?

  
“I don’t expect you to want to be with me anymore,” Zayn was saying while Niall tried to get a handle on his galloping emotions. “But I would really like it if you could, I don’t know, maybe forgive me for everything that happened? It really makes me sad to think that you might genuinely hate me.”

  
“I don’t hate you.”

  
“You don’t?”

  
Niall sighed. “No. Maybe I thought I did. But no, I don’t hate you.” Niall cast his eyes to the floor as he said this, afraid he’d start revealing things he really didn’t want to say if he were stupid enough to look into those eyes. He was forced to look back up into them when Zayn gently took hold of his chin and tilted it up.

  
“Niall, just hearing you say that really makes me happy. It's more than I hoped for actually.” Zayn’s face was very smiley as he said this and Niall rolled his eyes at him, mostly as a means of distracting his own face from getting all smiley too.

  
“Do you forgive me?” Zayn wanted to know.

  
“I don’t know about that one...” Niall said reluctantly. What he really needed was to think about all of this logically, clearly, when he was alone. He couldn’t think with Zayn standing so close. Not really.

  
“Please...” Zayn wheedled with a cute smile. “Please.”

  
Niall couldn’t help the laugh that tore out of him. “This is not a matter that can be resolved with a few “pleases”, Malik. Can I say I’ll think about it and we leave it at that?”

  
Zayn considered this and then nodded. “Yeah, okay. That’s fair. Sleep on it. I’ll ask you again tomorrow...And if you say no, I’ll ask you again the day after that. And the day after that.”

  
“You’re so annoying,” Niall replied mildly. He shivered suddenly as the wind picked up around them.

  
Zayn stopped laughing and murmured, “You’re cold. Come here.” He enfolded Niall in a tight hold, rubbing his arms and dammit, he felt so warm and snug that Niall didn’t offer any resistance except to say, “You probably dragged me out here just so you could do this. You forget I know you.”

  
“Maybe. Can you blame me? This is the first time I’ve gotten to touch you this much in over a year. I take my chances when I get them.”

  
“We could always just go inside you know,” Niall mumbled into the curve of his shoulder. Yeah he was letting Zayn hold him, but only because he was cold. Nothing else. Zayn smelling good enough to eat and lick and ravage had absolutely nothing to do with it.

  
“Yeah we could,” Zayn agreed. But neither of them showed any sign of moving.

  
They stood huddled like that for a few more minutes. “I forgive you,” Zayn said out of the blue.

  
“Hmmm?”

  
“I forgive you for having sex with other people. Even if you don’t think you need forgiving,” he explained softly. “Despite what you may say, we weren’t officially broken up. What you did was wrong. And I forgive you. I forgave you a long time ago.”

  
Niall mulled this over and nodded. Figuring he could offer a little more than that, he lifted his head and said sincerely, “I’m sorry for doing that. I was so mad and I thought it would make me feel better."

  
“I shouldn't have done anything to make you that mad in the first place.”

  
A moment later, Zayn was pulling them away from the wall and back into the condo, because apparently, “We should go for a drive! It'll be nice and warm in the car. D’you want to?”

  
Niall knew exactly what he meant. Just a drive around town like they always used to do. Going nowhere exactly, just wandering around aimlessly for a couple of hours, talking about everything, listening to their favourite songs. Everything was so much better, felt so much more free while you were on a drive. A night drive with the city lights layed out before you, like a certain song said. But.

"It’s really late Zayn, I should probably get home. Gotta wake up early for work. Some of us don't have the luxury of being so pretty we get paid for it.”

Zayn laughed at that. "You're totally pretty enough to get paid for if. C'mon please! It'll be fun. I know I'm getting carried away probably but I kinda want to take advantage of this whole you-not-hating-me-anymore thing."

Niall sighed. "Have I mentioned you're annoying?" But he didn't mean it in a bad way and they both knew it. "Fine. You're driving. And you promised me chocolate mousse tonight so at least have the decency to bring some of that along."

Zayn whooped loudly and exaggeratedly. And Niall sighed again. Why did it feel like he was already being sucked right back into everything he'd left behind. Malik was worming his way back in. Niall tried to convince himself to chill the fuck out... It was just one drive. One that was bound to be harmless fun. Nothing to worry about.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello :) This chapter is entirely in the present day.

Despite his misgivings that a night drive with Zayn would leave Niall feeling exhausted in the morning and therefore incapable of being even slightly productive at work, he actually felt the exact opposite when he woke. This surprised him. In fact, in those first few moments when he woke up he had a little trouble pinpointing what felt so different about this morning - and then he realised it was that he felt amazingly refreshed and relaxed and in a better mood than he’d been in weeks.

During their aimless drive around their hometown, it had felt kinda good to not have to keep a constant cold wall up just because Zayn was around - this type of cold exterior was just not who Niall was and it had been starting to get real tiring real quick. It wasn’t so much that everything between them was miraculously resolved in the space of one day. But at least now they could be civil towards each other. They drove for a few hours, arguing intermittently over which songs to play in the car and telling each other everything they’d been up to in the past year. As they talked - _really_  talked, for the first time in ages - Niall was reminded with annoying clarity of the exact reasons why he fell in love with Zayn when they first met. Not that he honestly believed he’d ever really forgotten.

And in some ways this was the major downside of their newfound truce... it was actually a little easier to hate Zayn than to have to acknowledge how funny and nice and slightly infuriating (when he insisted on playing the same Frank Ocean song five times in a row) and interesting and  _great_  Zayn was.

But that didn’t make up for everything he’d done and Niall told him this as they neared the end of their drive, immediately shifting the mood in the car from light to sombre, “This doesn’t mean that everything’s gone back to the way it used to be. I’m glad we’re not, y’know,  _at war_  anymore. But I’m still not at that point where I can honestly say I completely forgive you for everything and mean it. It's gonna take more than one day. I hope we can be friends at some stage - but that’s it.”

Zayn nodded slowly as he manoeuvred the car into the underground parking area of his condo building. “I won’t lie and say I’m happy to just be your friend. In fact, I don’t think it’s even possible for me to look at you as just a friend.” He stopped in his allotted parking space, switched the car off and then turned to Niall. “The way I feel about you is not what someone feels for a friend. That being said, I do think I’m lucky you’re even giving me that much. But just know this okay... I’m not giving up.”

He got a sudden smile on his face as he continued in a more upbeat voice, “How about I put my money where my mouth is and do this formally? Listen up. Consider this my official declaration. I hereby, today, with you as my witness, officially announce a challenge for myself that many will swear I’ll fail at. But I have a hunch they’re all wrong. Including you. What challenge is this, you ask? - ( _Niall rolled his eyes_ ) - This challenge is none other than Operation Make Niall See That We're Perfect Together And He Should Just Let Me Love Him.”

Niall raised an eyebrow. And tried to ignore the way his heart rate had just sped up. “Quite a mouthful, that challenge of yours. And did I hear you right, you said you’re gonna  _make_ me see? You can’t  _make_ me do anything, you should know that by now.” He laughed and took a languid sip from the carton of apple juice they’d brought along.

Zayn took a quick peak across at him, his grin growing as he gazed forward again. “I don’t think I stuttered, babe. You heard me right, I’m gonna  _make_ you. I intend on wearing you down to the point where you give up and love me again just so that I stop hounding you about it. I already completed my first mission, so you should have a little faith in this one. What mission was that, you ask?”

“No I’m not asking, actually...”

Zayn carried on like he hadn’t even heard him, “I don’t know if I should reveal any more of my brilliant plans seeing as you’re trying to tear them down with all your doubting and negativity - ( _Niall accidently/on purpose knocked him in the face with his elbow as he took another sip of juice_ ) -  _Ow_. Fine. Since you asked nicely. The challenge before this wasn’t as much of a mouthful but it was still very difficult. For a while there, you had me worried I was failing... Operation Make Niall Stop Hating Me.” He beamed, tongue caught between his teeth.

“You’re an idiot,” Niall stated simply.

“I don’t deny that. But you used to be in love with this idiot.”

Niall wasn’t sure he wasn’t still. No wait - what? He was _not_  still in love with him.

Niall opened the passenger side door of Zayn’s Audi and before clambering out he said, “Listen up. Consider this my official declaration. I officially wish you luck on your challenge, Zayn. I’ll try not to disrupt your delusions by bringing in my doubting and negativity, as you say. And now, I really have to get going. It’s 2 o’clock in the morning and I have to be up in less than 5 hours. You’re a terrible influence.”

Zayn stepped out of the car too and simultaneously yawned and stretched. “Sleep over here with me. You won’t have to drive all the way home and lose even more time.”

“Fat chance in hell.”

Zayn laughed. “It was worth a shot. - That’s an open invitation by the way. You're free to share my bed anytime you want. Unless of course, you’re scared of exactly what I’ll be able to  _make_ you do. Can't trust yourself around me, huh?”

“Clearly you didn't hear me the first time. So let me rephrase it. You’ll be able to make me do something the day hell freezes over. Or when pigs fly, whichever day comes first,” Niall replied with a mockingly sweet smile, backing away towards his own car that stood parked a few feet away.

“There you go with that negativity again.”

...........................

Louis kept eying Niall somewhat smugly and a little suspiciously that next morning as the two of them worked across from each other, seated at a table in the middle of the firm’s library. And Niall didn’t ask him what the deal was because he’d learned enough about Louis by this stage to know that he probably didn’t want to know what the deal was.

And he also knew that Louis would eventually spit it out all on his own.

Which he did. Out of the blue, not even looking up from the passages in the law book he was currently highlighting with a neon pen, Louis said smoothly, “You and Luke finally got it on last night...did the deed, didn’t you? And it must’ve been good too. You’re like fucking glowing or something.”

Niall rubbed his face self-consciously. “No I’m not. And no we did not. He’s not even here, he flew back to LA yesterday afternoon.”

Louis abruptly stopped highlighting, looking surprised at first and then even smugger than before. “Interesting,” he said. “ _Very_  interesting... Your boyfriend flew out yesterday afternoon. And yet this morning, you’re looking like the cat that got the cream. So the question that remains is who exactly got you looking like this? - And I won’t even be cruel enough to make you answer because I’m pretty sure I already know the answer.”

Niall shook his head and continued reading through the thick file containing Zayn’s old contracts- the very contracts he’d been meaning to look through for over a week now but had kept getting distracted from by Zayn himself. In response to Louis, Niall said, “I know where you’re going with this. And you’re wrong. Those are probably words you don’t hear very often. But you’re wrong. All you’re seeing is the effects of me having gotten a good night’s sleep.”

“With Zayn.”

Niall considered lying and saying that he hadn’t even seen Zayn, but wisely decided against it - he was a terrible liar and would only be caught out right then or sometime in the future. “We had dinner last night because he wanted to talk about everything. We talked. I went home. Then I slept like a baby.”

“Interesting.”

“If you say so. Now shut up, I’m trying to concentrate.”

Louis ignored all of that. “I’m actually quite curious to see how long you think you can keep this up. Hmm? How long are you going to act like you don’t still feel something for him? I admire your dedication to your cause.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

“That’s the scary part.” Louis laughed so hard you’d swear he’d just heard the funniest joke of his life. “You’re in such a state of denial that you’ve probably genuinely convinced yourself you’re over him.”

“I  _am_  over him,” Niall said shortly. Feeling that a change in subject was in order, “I find it amusing that you choose to get on my case about  _my_ love life when you can’t even sort out your own. Still pining over Harry, aren’t you, even though you’ll never actually do anything about it?”

Maybe a little cruel of Niall but he felt it was deserved. And plus, Louis could handle anything Niall threw his way. It was only where Harry Styles was concerned that Louis seemed to lose any of his self-assuredness.

But instead of looking indignant or haughty like he normally would have, Louis got this dopey happy look on his face that immediately spiked Niall’s interest. Louis cleared his throat dramatically. “Actually... I shouldn’t even be telling you this. Been  _dying_  to tell you but he said he wants to be the one to tell you. He’s worried you’ll be mad for some reason. But since you’re being such a dick, I’m gonna tell you just so I can see that dumb look you’re about to get on your face.”

Niall’s eyes widened in disbelief and the smile on his face steadily widened too. “ _No way_. You actually asked him out? Way to go buddy! I mean that.”

Oh no, that dopey look got even dopier and even happier. “I didn’t ask him out. I was more than willing to give it a bit of time seeing as he just got out of a relationship. But he asked me out actually. Called me up on Monday night and I’m quoting him verbatim here Niall, all he said in that fucking sexy drawl was:  ‘I’m tired of waiting. What exactly does a man need to do to get you to take him out? Beg? I’m not really one to beg but I am willing to get down on my knees for you in other ways.’ No hellos, how are yous, nothing! He just phoned me up and fucking propositioned me like it was nothing. And it was the most perfect thing in my life ever.”

Niall was mesmerised as he listened. A second later he was laughing uproariously.  _Way to go Harry._

He asked, “Why did he want to tell me himself though? Why did he think I’d be mad?”

The dopey look disappeared and a sterner one appeared, apparently directed at Niall. “Because he’s convinced you hate him. He says the only person you hate more than him is Zayn. I tried telling him you don’t actually hate either of them, despite your best efforts to. But he wouldn’t listen. He thinks you’re gonna go all apeshit on him because I’m your best friend.”

All Niall did was laugh some more.

Louis was not impressed. “Fix this. Tell him you’re okay with us going out. I’m not about to let your issues cockblock me on this one. He won’t actually go out with me until he gets a chance to talk to you.”

“Yeah, okay,” Niall agreed easily. “I’ll go pay him a visit tonight. It’s long overdue anyway. “

“Hold up. That was way too easy.  _Way_  too easy...“ Louis shook his head, looking across at Niall in blatant suspicion. “You didn’t even fight me on that one! And I can only think of one explanation for you being so complacent... Zayn must’ve gave it to you good last night. So good that you’re in too good a mood to argue with me. Or maybe you gave it to Zayn, who am I to guess how you two do things. I almost approve. I just feel bad for your boyfriend in all this.” He shrugged.

Niall threw a wadded-up piece of paper across at him. “I did not fucking sleep with Zayn, okay? Like you just mentioned, I’m seeing someone else! But yeah, me and Zayn did reach a sort of truce. A polite semi-friendly truce. So it’s only fair that I extend that truce to Harry.”

Louis nodded slowly. “Interesting. Yes, all of this is  _very_  interesting.”

“Whatever. Those passages Mr Hewlett asked you for 2 hours ago aren’t going to highlight themselves. I suggest you get to it.”

And Niall himself went right back to reading through those old contracts. Seeing Miles’ signature on the pages still filled Niall with a vague longing to punch someone in the face.  _Onwards and upwards_ , he reminded himself.

During the earlier stages of Zayn’s career, while he was still with Niall, the nature of his work had generally been quite modest. A few runway shows, a campaign for a local clothing company, a department store’s male skincare line. Decent money and decent work, and luckily for Niall these contracts were easy to breeze through.

But a few months before the two of them broke up, things started to get crazy really quickly. One Saturday night a head representative from Gucci had bumped into Zayn at an industry party that Zayn hadn’t even wanted to go to in the first place. She decided she liked what she saw and was willing to take a chance on a relatively unknown and relatively inexperienced model. Two weeks later he was signed as the face of Gucci’s latest fragrance. Crazy really. It all spiralled so fast from there.

 _Miles must have figured he’d hit the motherfucking jackpot once Zayn started getting really big_ , Niall thought to himself slightly bitterly.

The legal paperwork for this side of Zayn’s career was somewhat more complex than his department store dealings. Niall sighed. Reading through hundreds of pages of clauses would definitely be high up there if he were asked to compile a list of his least favourite aspects of his job. Nonetheless, it had to be done. He soldiered on and continued reading.

In the back of his mind, he wasn’t really expecting to find anything out of the ordinary. It was more that he just wanted to make double sure. He took his job seriously and most of all...well, he didn’t want to fail Zayn when it came to something Zayn was entrusting him with.

It was when he was mid-way through reading through the L’Oreal Men one that he saw it. He stopped short and read it again.  _No no no._  Frantically, he flipped to the same-subsection in the next document, the one for Armani underwear, and there it was too. But it didn’t make sense.

Niall used to look over these contracts when he was dating Zayn and these were indeed those same contracts. But he knew for certain that somebody had changed them after he was done with them, he didn’t remember any of what he was reading now.

Who would put that in? ...Miles.  _But why_? Looking through everything again, he noticed that those were the only two contracts Miles had been able to tamper with. Probably not for a lack of trying though. 

Only two. But still. This was not good. At all.

“What’s wrong?” Louis asked worriedly as Niall shot up from his chair and scrambled towards the door.

“I’ll explain later! I’m probably gonna need your help,” Niall shouted, slipping past the library door, his mind racing and going into overdrive as he tried to figure a way out of this.

He walked straight into the office of the most senior partner, Mr Hewlett, who was seated behind his desk speaking on the telephone as his daughter Candice stood nearby delivering the day’s mail and client communication.

Both father and daughter looked towards him in surprise as he stormed in. Then Mr Hewlett covered the mouthpiece of the phone in irritation. “I have a clear no entry without knocking first policy. Everybody in this firm is well aware of that.”

“Sorry, sir. This is quite urgent,” Niall explained as he fought to catch his breath.

Mr Hewlett scrutinised him for a moment and then seemed to realise that Niall was indeed very serious. He spoke briefly into the phone, hung up, turned to Candice. “You heard the man. We have important business to discuss. Why are you still here? And please for the love of God, redo that brief again before you come back in here. I’ve never seen such incompetence in my life. If you weren’t my daughter...” He trailed off but everyone in the room got his implied meaning perfectly.

Candice flushed, her mouth setting in a hard hurt line. Niall despised the way this man treated his daughter more than he could possibly put into words. She always tried her best and she was more than competent, but it was never enough to satisfy her father.

“Sir, with all due respect -” Niall started to say, on the verge of defending his friend but Candice frantically shook her head. She gave him a half-hearted smile and shrugged before walking out the door.

Once Niall and Mr Hewlett were alone in this room, the man gestured for Niall to sit. But Niall remained standing; he didn’t have time to sit. He had to  _fix this_  somehow.

Taking a deep breath, Niall told him the gist of what he’d just discovered. “I’ll get right to it, Mr Hewlett. It’s only a matter of time before my client Zayn gets sued. Most likely the agency too. - He’s probably going to lose every single penny he's ever made.”

_And I don't know how to fix it. I have to fix it._

 


	21. Chapter 21

The good thing - (if there was a “good” thing in a situation like this) - was that Niall was very effective in a crisis.

Whenever something in his life went terribly wrong, his brain immediately went into focused productive mode. Before he’d even finished walking out of Mr Hewlett’s office after explaining Zayn’s legal dilemma, he was already dialling his ex’s number.

“Hey, where are you? I really need to talk to you,” Niall blurted out in a rush as soon as Zayn picked up.

“Hello, love,” Zayn answered cheerfully. Wherever he was, Juicy by Notorious BIG was blaring loudly in the background and subsequently into Niall’s ear. Mercifully the music was turned down a notch before Zayn continued, “I’m driving to the agency to see one of the bookers. He might have a cool new gig for me. Is everything okay?”

Zayn hadn’t called him “love” in a long  _long_ time and it brought a vague sort of pang to Niall’s chest, but Niall decided that now wasn’t really the time to dwell or comment on that. “Can I meet you there?” Niall had arrived back at his desk by now, where he grabbed his car keys and wallet and proceeded towards the office elevators.

“Yeah, sure...” Zayn sounded slightly surprised. There was a brief pause. “Or I can come by your office once I’m done here. - Should I be nervous? What’s the matter?”

“I’ll come to you. Um -” Niall didn’t want to lie to him and say that everything was fine but at the same time he didn’t want to worry Zayn before he could tell him what was going on face to face. He settled on saying, “I’ll explain everything when I get there. See you in a bit.”

"Or I can save you the trip. I already know what you’re coming here for. You can't contain yourself anymore, and now you wanna come all the way here just to do me in one of the broom closets,” Zayn said jokingly.

Despite himself, Niall laughed. “You’re so very wrong. That isn’t it. I need to talk to you.”

“No, I’m kidding. I can tell it’s something serious...And the fact that you’re obviously worried makes  _me_ worry. Are you in some kind of trouble? You can tell me now, you don’t have to wait ‘til you get here.”

“No it’s not about me - it’s hard to explain over the phone.” Niall sighed, he knew how frustrating it was when somebody wouldn’t tell you something and it just made your mind think up the most awful possibilities, most of which were much worse than the truth. “I’ll be there in less than an hour. Just wait for me, okay?”

“Yeah of course.  Call me when you get here.”

“I will. And Zayn?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want you to worry.” Niall knew it was a completely pointless thing to say, but it was also the truth.

“Okay. You don’t  _want_  me to worry, but still, whatever this is, it’s bad enough that I  _should_ be worried, right?”

And yeah, that summed it up pretty succinctly.

Before leaving the office Niall went back into the law library to fetch the documents he needed to show Zayn. In there he found Louis in the exact spot where he’d left him, except he was on the phone now and if the dumb reluctantly-ecstatic grin on his face was anything to go by, he was most likely talking to Harry. Niall scribbled a note for him on the legal pad lying on the table and rushed out the door with a vague wave.

Driving from Jersey to New York City during peak lunchtime hour was not something Niall would’ve planned intentionally of course, but now it couldn’t be avoided. The drive to Portfolio Inc pretty much went by in a blur though, as Niall tried to thoroughly consider every option available to them that might fix all this. Like he’d said he would, he dialled Zayn’s number again as he drove into the parking lot opposite the sprawling agency headquarters.

 Zayn was waiting for him on one of the lush couches in the lobby when Niall walked into the building some five minutes later. Niall’s ex was nervously gnawing on his bottom lip as he flipped through a magazine he didn’t seem to be actually reading. When he looked up and his gaze fell on Niall, he stood up from the couch and briskly walked towards him, shaking his head. Before he’d even reached him, he asked anxiously, “Seriously Niall, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

Niall noticed that the two of them were getting a few curious glances from other people waiting in the lobby as well as the nosy-looking woman who was manning the reception desk. He turned his attention back to Zayn and asked, “Is there somewhere we can talk alone?”

 “Yeah.” Zayn took him by the arm and led him out of the lobby. “Kevin said we could use his office for a while. I told him you were coming.”

“Kevin?”

“The booking agent I met with today.”

 Kevin’s office was apparently was not too far from the lobby because pretty soon, Zayn was opening the front door of a corner room on the left wing of the building.

As soon as they were inside, neither of them made a move towards the chair behind the desk or the armchair in the corner of the room. They stood facing each other smack in the middle of the room, one of Zayn’s hands lightly resting on Niall’s forearm.

“Niall, tell me what this is about. I’ve already gone through a hundred different scenarios in my head, each one worse than the previous.” His eyes were almost feverishly bright with anxiety and Niall knew what an active imagination Zayn had, wonderfully creative most of the time but overly dramatic at times like this.

 Looking back at him steadily, Niall did what he did best - he took a deep breath and plunged right into it. There was no point in beating around the bush. “You’re gonna get sued for close to a million dollars.”

Of course Zayn looked stunned by this blunt statement. Then strangely, he looked marginally relieved for a split second before his expression looked rather bewildered again. He asked, “Sued? Why? I haven’t done anything.”

Niall opened his brief case and got out the L’Oreal Men contract. He handed it to Zayn. “Page 4. Clause 3.1 and then some 20 pages later, clause 53.9. I went over some of your older contracts this morning because...I don’t know, something about them kept bothering me. It has to do with a loan option that’s standard in most big contracts.”

 “Okay...” Zayn said uncertainly. He bent his head and started reading.

**_3.1. The client, Zayn Malik, through an official declaration from himself or through official written representation from Portfolio Agency Inc., may request an advance amounting to not more than half of the total five-year contract value, $800 000._ **

And many pages later:

**_53.9 An official representative from the agency, herewith obligates himself to an amount of $400 000, in line with the stipulations outlined in Clause 3.1, in agreement with the client named in clause 3.1 from whom signature has been obtained as neccessitated by clause 1.2 of this contract._ **

But Niall wasn’t done. “Then once you’re done with all that, clause 70.8 towards the end.”

**_70.8 If an advance, as defined in clause 3.1 of this contract, was requested by an official representative from the agency and that official is in future no longer employed by the agency, the stipulations and responsibilities of that request immediately fall under the obligation of the client named in clause 3.1, the repayment of which should not exceed two calendar years from the date of the advance payment._ **

Zayn looked up and shook his head, somewhat dazed. “Okay, I get that this is bad. But what does all this really mean, like without the legal mumbo-jumbo?”

Niall paused, trying to thinking of how to put this truthfully without pussy-footing about but also without alarming his client unnecessarily. “Basically, Miles stashed away almost a million dollars from two deals, not just this one, but the Armani underwear one too. Both these companies paid that money out to him and they expect it to be paid back by you. Like now. With interest. It needs to be paid by you because Miles doesn't work at Portfolio anymore. - Did you ever sign anything that Miles gave you without really reading it?”

Zayn closed his eyes, perhaps trying to think back. Then he looked sheepish as he half shrugged, half nodded. “Yeah, maybe. People used to kind of shove all kinds of papers under my nose. I can’t remember everything I ever signed...”

Niall opened his mouth to start berating him a bit but Zayn beat him to it, rubbing weary hands over his eyes, “I know, I know. You told me a million times not to sign anything without reading it over first. But I thought I could trust him. I didn’t know I had any reason to doubt him until it was too late.”

 _Miles was really the bastardest of all bastards._  “It’s not completely your fault, Zayn. He deliberately misled you.  He deliberately put those three sections in different parts of the contract. And he definitely put them in  _after_  I read through it back then. You’d have to know what to look for to notice anything strange...And I think he was always planning on quitting once he had enough money. Those clauses aren’t just a coincidence but there’s no way he could have foreseen that he’d get caught for the other stuff and get fired.”

Zayn smiled a little, but it looked a little on the watery side to be honest. He attempted to sound cheerful. “I feel like an idiot. But on the bright side, when you told me you had something to tell me, I was imagining all kinds of things. Much worse. I thought you were gonna tell me you and Luke eloped. And then I started thinking about how you were sick recently and maybe it wasn’t just a stomach bug like we thought and maybe you went to the doctor for a check-up today. So then I was thinking maybe you were gonna tell me you’re dying or something.” He started to look a little ill himself just talking about it. “I really don’t know what I’d do if something like that ever happened.”

Niall shook his head. There was that over-active imagination. “But I _told_  you that what I wanted to tell you had nothing to do with me.” He paused briefly, laughed a little. “And are you seriously saying me getting married would be worse than losing all your money?”

In a tone of voice that implied it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Yes.”

There was a soft knock on the door, then the door opened and a young man gingerly walked into the room looking very apologetic. “Sorry to interrupt. Z, don’t mind me. Just forgot my phone in my drawer, I’ll be outta your hair again in just a sec.”

Zayn shook his head. “No problem man, you’re doing us a real favour by letting us use your office. Let me introduce you to someone. This is my friend Niall. He’s also my attorney actually. The best there is. Niall, this is my friend Kevin. He’s a senior booking agent here at the agency.”

So many  _friends_ , Niall thought to himself rather sarcastically as he shook Kevin’s hand. It kind of rubbed him the wrong way to be called a friend, he sort of felt that he and Zayn had way too much history for him to now be seen in the same light as some random agency guy. But then he reminded himself to stop being ridiculous - what else was Zayn supposed to introduce him as? The term  _ex-boyfriend_  always led to too many unwanted assumptions and nosy questions from other people.

Besides, with the way Kevin was looking at Niall in that moment - kinda serious and curious and dubious all at once - Niall had a hunch that Kevin already knew the exact nature of his and Zayn’s relationship, past and present.

And here’s the thing. This booking agent was  _gorgeous_. Stunning enough to be a model himself. Niall could see that he appeared to be of mixed race, although exactly what marvellous collision and merger of nationalities had led to the beauty standing before him, Niall couldn’t be certain. He subtly took note of strong bold features, caramel coloured skin, kind-looking big grey eyes. Closely shaven dark hair, a lean body that stood taller than both Niall and Zayn.

Looking at him, Niall’s mind immediately summoned one word -  _sex_. Kevin was sinfully hot and a few years ago Niall would’ve done his utmost to get a guy like him in his bed. A few years ago meaning long before he made the decision to never again fall in love at first sight with dangerously attractive strangers.

In fact, the only man that Niall knew personally who was more ridiculously beautiful than this Kevin guy was none other than Zayn himself. It was a little dizzying to be in the room with both of them.

But then...But then Niall watched the way Kevin smiled softly at Zayn as he said “Bye. Again.” and the lingering way he looked at Zayn just before he shut the door behind him as he left them to it. And with that, Niall immediately stopped thinking of Kevin as hot ( _he was actually quite douchey-looking_ , now that Niall thought about it). Instead Niall’s mind started going into overdrive as he put the pieces together  - he would recognize that look on Kevin’s face anywhere. Or rather, he recognized the emotion behind it... he was almost certain he used to get that same dumb adoring look on his own face pretty much every time Zayn entered the room.

_Oh._

Once Kevin had left, the two exes sat in silence for a while, Zayn behind the desk with a contract in his hand, rereading all the legal jargon that Niall had pointed out to him, and Niall in the armchair watching him intently as he thought some more about Kevin, who  _yeah, was probably definitely a douche. Those big grey puppy dog eyes weren’t fooling Niall._

“So...you and Kevin...Did you ever date? Like in this past year? How long has he been working here?” Niall asked all this ever-so nonchalantly, and it was lucky for him that Zayn was preoccupied in that moment. Because usually Zayn would have been able to see right through him.

“Hmm? He's been here longer than me. And no, we're strictly business,” Zayn replied distractedly as his eyes quickly scanned the page of the document in his hand.

He knew it was stupid of him to even ask. But still, he ignored the voice of reason in his mind that was telling him to shut up. He just couldn’t shut up. “Okay... But I’m sure with all the gorgeous, young,  _willing_ people at this agency, you all do your fair share of hooking up. So you’ve slept with Kevin or something, right? Or maybe someone else around here?”

Zayn’s head suddenly jerked up right then and a smug grin transformed his face from the grim expression it had been displaying just seconds earlier.  _Shit._  Niall had his full attention now. “Niall Horan, are you jealous?” Zayn set the file aside as he nodded a little, almost to himself.

Niall scoffed derisively and rolled his eyes for good measure too. “No! Jealous of what exactly? I’m just curious. He was looking at you like he was imagining licking you or something. It was fucking weird.”

Zayn looked at him for a moment before throwing his head back and laughing hard. Somehow be managed to get out, “Yeah maybe you’re curious. But I also think that’s not all you are.”

“I am not jealous,” Niall insisted. “Why would I be? A guy can’t even ask a question anymore without being accused of jealousy. Ridiculous.”

Zayn leaned forward slightly, elbow resting on the table, hand idily stroking his jaw. He said with the same smile still on his face, “You’re cute when you do that.”

“Do what? I’m not doing anything.” Yep, it was time to swiftly move on from this topic of conversation which he should’ve never embarked on in the first place. “It’s none of my business anyway. We have bigger things to worry about. We sort of need to figure out how to stop you from getting sued. Remember  _that_  little dilemma currently facing us?” Niall stood up abruptly, and started pacing the room as his mind got back on track.

Zayn’s demeanour sobered up again and he nodded. "Yeah." He buried his face in his hands for a moment before taking a deep breath. “I worked really hard so that my family would be okay, y’know. So that my sisters wouldn’t have to go without all those little things they want but don’t need, like I did growing up. I don’t want to take that away from them. And yeah look, I definitely don’t want to go to jail.”

“You won’t. I promise you I’m gonna figure this out.” Usually Niall wasn’t one for making promises to clients that he wasn’t sure he could keep. But he had every intention of keeping this one, even if it meant that he had to work miracles and call on every single favour he had owed to him in the entire legal profession.

Zayn didn’t look like he doubted him. He simply said, “I know. I know you’ll try your best. And your best is pretty awesome so I’m in good hands.” His face relaxed again. Niall relaxed somewhat too, the tense mood in the room lifting slightly.

Zayn stood up and went to stand in the middle of the room where Niall was still slowly pacing as he mentally compiled a list of people that he needed to speak to as soon as possible - the head of the agency, Harry (maybe he would remember something useful from back then), Louis (two legal minds were better than one, especially when one of those minds belonged to the brilliant Louis Tomlinson).

Zayn stilled Niall's pacing form by placing his hands on his waist and holding him there. They stood facing each other again. “Moving back to a topic that I find _very_  interesting...Your curiosity slash jealousy, Mr Horan. If I had no scruples or morals I’d convince Kevin to help me make you jealous for real. Maybe a fake date or two, preferably at that cafe right across from your office... But nah,” he sighed dramatically, a wry smile lighting up his features. “I’m too old to be playing games.”

Fake date? There would be nothing fake about it on Kevin’s side. Did Zayn seriously not see? Niall didn’t know his ex-boyfriend to be stupid. He refrained from stating,  _He’s in love with you, you idiot!_

If Zayn didn’t know or was intent on pretending like he didn’t know, Niall wasn’t unhappy about that and he also wasn’t about to be the one to bring it to his attention.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> flashbacks are in bold blah blah blah :)

“This is the first time I’ve seen you in over two weeks. And now you’re leaving me, ditching me for Zayn.” Luke said this lightly. A little petulantly. But there was a hint of seriousness underneath his flippant tone.

“Luke.” Niall sighed. “Don’t say that. I’m not ditching you for him. I need to do my job. I’m only leaving because I’ve got a few meetings set up to try and sort things out for my client. Who just happens to be Zayn.”

The two of them were lounging side by side on Luke’s bed in his deluxe hotel suite on a Saturday afternoon, (fully-clothed), Niall having come over a little while earlier for a quick lunch - grilled cheese sandwiches from room service and Skittles from the bar fridge. Luke was back in town that day, after weeks in Los Angeles spent doing heavy duty media promotion for his new movie that was coming out soon.

But Niall only had an hour or two to spare for grilled cheese sandwiches before he needed to get back to work. Yes, work on a Saturday afternoon. Louis was going to be accompanying him to meet with the legal division at Zayn’s agency that evening, and Niall had to make sure he was well-prepared. They were all due to meet with bigwigs from Armani two days after this and L'Oreal a day after that, and there was no room for error on Niall's part.

“I know it’s your job. I just miss you. I was kinda hoping you’d stay over tonight so we could catch up properly.” Luke leaned across to give him a series of soft pecks along the jaw and he lingered there. “I couldn’t wait to get back here. I really missed you.”

There was a brief pause before Niall said, “I really missed you too.” Okay, maybe that was stretching the truth just a smidgen. This past week Niall had been crazy busy and really stressed out, his head buried in mountains of paperwork whenever he wasn’t on the phone to anybody he thought might be able to help Zayn. There hadn’t been time to miss anybody all that much.

Now, he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty over his neglect of his boyfriend, although that neglect had not been intentional.  He realised in that moment that he could make a bit more of an effort where Luke was concerned. Niall turned his head and briefly met Luke’s lips with his own, before saying, “I can come over tonight once I’m done with my meetings, if you don’t mind me coming in really late. It’ll most likely be way after midnight though because there’s gonna be a lot to get through with those guys.”

He and Luke had been taking things really slow and because of that they’d never actually spent the night in the same bed, or had sex. So this was a huge deal.

Luke’s eyes lit up with so much happiness that it made Niall feel bad he hadn’t offered to do this sooner. Luke grabbed his hand, using it to pull him across the bed and on top of him. He smiled up at Niall and murmured warmly, “I don’t mind. No scratch that - I can’t wait.” To prove just how much he couldn’t wait, he tilted upwards and kissed Niall sweetly, then hotly, breaking away a minute later to make a frustrated little groan. “You sure you can’t stay right now?... you know I’m just gonna be thinking about you all day until you get back here.”

Luke shifted a little below him, groaning again, slightly louder this time. And Niall could clearly feel what was causing all that groaning. It was to do with the rapidly hardening length underneath Luke’s basketball shorts. Niall, amused, did some groaning of his own but for entirely different reasons - it was time to make a break for it or else Luke would make him extremely late for his meetings. He started climbing off the bed. “I’m sorry, I really have to go. I’ll see you later though.”

Niall didn’t get very far before Luke pulled him down for one last kiss, a prolonged scorching merger of their mouths and tongues - that actually felt a lot like Luke was trying to start something rather than say goodbye. When his hands started slipping ever lower and  _lower_  down Niall’s back, Niall broke away laughing. He quickly lept off the bed, wagging a finger at Luke and then attempting to straighten out his slightly rumpled suit. “I have to go,” he said again. “Bye. I’ll miss you.” And this time Niall felt like he meant it.

.............................

As soon as Niall left Luke's hotel room and got into his car and switched his phone on, three new messages buzzed on his phone. All three were from Louis, asking Niall to call him asap.

So Niall did just that, feeling rather apprehensive as the line began to ring.

On the second ring Louis picked up and immediately demanded, “Where are you? I’ve been trying to call you for the past hour. The guys from the agency sent through a message that they can’t meet with us today, they’ve rescheduled to Monday.”

Oh. Phew. Nothing too serious then.

“Sorry, man. I had my phone off, but only for like an hour at most. Luke just got back in town and I kind of wanted some alone time with him, away from all this madness.”

Louis hummed. “I can appreciate that...I can imagine exactly how you guys were spending that alone time. Anyway, do you still wanna meet up and put our heads together on this Zayn thing? I’m game if you are.”

Niall and Louis had agreed to meet up at Louis’ apartment before heading out to their evening meeting later.

Niall only had to think about it for a second before he said, “I’m gonna put in an hour today but you don’t have to. Then we can really get into it tomorrow. It’s Saturday man, I’m sure you’ve got way better things to do. Go out and indulge in your youth.”

Louis, as Niall had expected, didn’t argue with that. “Alright if you insist. I  _have_  been wanting to meet with the young Harold Styles, now that you mention indulging in my youth...However,” he continued, his tone changing to decidedly unimpressed, “he still won’t actually go on a date with me until he talks to you. He insists on Zayn or someone else being there whenever I meet up with him. I'm way too old for a fucking chaperone."

(Niall easily anticipated Louis’ next riled question.)

“So exactly when are you going to talk to him? I told him you’re cool with us going out but he wants to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth.”

Niall tried to muffle a laugh. “Soon. I promise. I’ve just been really busy. You know I meant to talk to him that day you first told me about you two, but then everything with Zayn happened.”

“Hmm,” was all Louis said in response, sounding just as unimpressed as before. 

When they ended the call, Niall embarked on the tedious drive from the City where Luke was staying back to Jersey and some time later, he was pulling into the parking lot of his apartment complex. Here he changed out his suit (no need for him to be uncomfortable now that he wasn’t going to be attending any meetings).

A half hour later he was on the road again, this time stopping at his beloved law firm, feeling very much like a loser for being there at all on a Saturday afternoon. But what he was doing was the most important thing he'd done since he'd started working at the firm, so he didn’t really mind. Not only important for the firm and Zayn’s agency as the firm’s client, but it was also important to Niall as well. Intuitively, he realised that if he were to think too long and hard about why this matter was important to him, he might not like the answer. He already had a feeling that it all simply boiled down to him wanting Zayn to be happy.

He had been thinking a lot about Zayn lately, especially after meeting that fucking booking agent Kevin who  _clearly_ wanted into Zayn’s pants, and even more worryingly Kevin had looked at Zayn like he also wanted into, like, Zayn’s  _heart_ or something. (Niall kind of had a really hard time accepting that he found this worrying... In the end, he told himself that it was normal to care about who your ex got together with or who they could potentially get together with.  _Perfectly normal_ , he told himself.  _Giving a shit about what an ex does, does not mean that you want said-ex back._ )

But even now with his boyfriend back in town, Niall couldn’t stop his thoughts from drifting to Zayn. Mostly these thoughts were centred around how to help Zayn escape horrifyingly heavy lawsuits but every now and again these thoughts centered around... well, just Zayn himself - their shared past, their newfound tentative friendship. But he supposed that this was to be expected - when you had so many memories, largely wonderful and happy memories, of someone that you'd tried to bury for such a long time, those memories were bound to start emerging quick and fast as soon as you decided to stop hating that someone.

Niall wondered briefly whether, just for today, he should say  _Screw Zayn_  and drive back to where Luke would no doubt welcome him with ecstatic open arms. But nope, something held him back from leaving the paperwork spread out before him. He couldn’t quite drag himself away. He was a little annoyed at himself for this. But to be fair to himself he couldn’t really realistically say  _screw Zayn_  just yet because he still needed to try and track down that bastard Miles who apparently had been released early from prison months ago for “good behaviour”.

Eventually after an hour and a half of yawn-inducing reading and following up dead lead after dead lead where Miles was concerned, Niall called it a day and packed up his things. He'd done enough for one day.

As he exited the office on his way to his car carrying all the files he’d brought with him, a piece of paper slipped out from one of Zayn’s accountant’s folders and fell onto the gravel of the parking lot. He juggled the contents in his hands and bent down to pick the paper up. With a smile and the slightest tinge of an ache in his heart Niall realized what it was - a restaurant receipt from Cabo. From when he and Zayn were still together.

When Zayn had scored his first really big modelling job in the early months of his career back when everything was still great between them, he’d surprised Niall in the most wonderful way possible.

.........................................

**In the far nether regions of his subconscious, Niall registered that someone was talking. And he really wished the person would stop talking because they were interrupting his lovely cosy nap on the living room couch.**

**“Angelface... Niall. Wake up."**

**"Hmm... no.” Niall grumbled sleepily, half-heartedly swatting away at the lips whispering right into his ear. “Zayn... Stop being an ass and let me sleep... Go away.”**

**Zayn laughed at Niall’s feeble attempts to push him away. He captured Niall’s moving hands and held them. Much to Niall’s exasperation, Zayn insisted, “I really think you should get up.”**

**Niall had no intention of getting up right then. Niall had been _up_  since the wee hours of the morning writing a 10 page case analogy for one his classes, due at 12h30 that afternoon. He’d finished it just before 10 o’clock but evidently he’d fallen asleep afterwards...Wait. He’d fallen asleep  _before_ he’d handed it in...  _s h i t_. “What time is it?” Niall asked in a panic, shooting up into a sitting position and turning to where his laptop was still open on the coffee table, screen pitch black now from hours of unuse. His professor was really strict abut deadlines. Really strict, as in Niall’s academic career was potentially in serious jeopardy.**

**But Zayn only smiled indulgently, sitting down on the couch and pulling a panicked Niall into his lap. “You're okay. It’s only 12, you still have time. Your professor is not about to hang your balls out to dry. At least not this time.” Zayn nuzzled against the skin on the back of Niall’s neck, his arms tightening around him as he murmured in amusement, “Did you really think I’d let you miss your deadline?”**

**“I guess not.” Niall settled back against him and closed his eyes again. Now that he knew a crisis was not imminent, maybe he could catch just 5 more minutes of sleep.**

**“Hey.” Zayn laughed and poked him in the side. “Don’t fall asleep again. Got a busy day ahead. After you’re done sending your paper I need you to pack a bag.”**

**Niall assumed this meant that Zayn was going away on a trip. And well, this was the first time Niall was hearing of it. But modelling gigs were often unpredictable like that, people getting fired and hired at the drop of a hat. Niall rose from Zayn’s lap and turned around, sinking back down to straddle his boyfriend. He leaned forward and kissed him, softly, once. “I can _help_ you pack your bag. But I’m not packing it for you. What do you think this is? The 1600s and I’m your personal handmaiden? Your own lady-in-waiting?”**

**Zayn burst out laughing, lighting up his entire face. The entire room in fact, if you asked Niall. Zayn said breathlessly, “You’re obviously still half asleep. I didn’t say I want you to pack my bag for me. I’m telling you to pack a bag for _yourself_.”**

**Niall’s eyes sparkled with interest. “Why? Where am I going?”**

**“ _We_  are going. Away on a little vacation. Leaving today and coming back on Monday.” Four days.**

**For a few seconds Niall’s mind anxiously ran through all the important dates in their relationship as he tried to make sure that he hadn’t forgotten something- it wasn’t their anniversary...wasn’t Zayn’s birthday...wasn’t his own birthday, it wasn’t Valentine’s day. He relaxed when he realised that nope, he wasn’t forgetting anything. Besides, Zayn wasn’t really into celebrating any ‘commercialized’ holidays. He was known to say all the time: “If you love somebody, why do you need to wait for your calendar to tell you it’s time to show them that you do?”**

**But just to be extra sure that he wasn’t missing anything this time, Niall said, “That sounds great! But what’s the occasion?”**

**Zayn grinned. “I got my first big pay check this morning. And you and me are gonna blow it. I think we deserve it, just this once, don't you think?” Zayn looked _so_  excited and his enthusiam was infectious. Despite his mild exhaustion, Niall was suddenly full of energy as he began firing off a million questions about what kind of clothes he should pack, where they were going, whether Zayn was really sure about spending all that money on one trip.**

**Zayn fondly told him to shut up and pack whatever, and that yes he was sure.**

**Niall draped his arms around Zayn's neck and said, "Shouldn’t we, I don’t know, just go out to dinner or something? Y'know, the way normal people celebrate good pay checks.”**

**Zayn wrinkled his nose in apparent distaste and laughed. “When have we ever wanted to be normal? I wanna go away for the weekend with my gorgeous boyfriend, eat way too much good food, spend our time doing lame organized holiday activities for couples. Please, stop trying to cockblock me.”**

**“I hope you realise you’ve got the biggest dumbest grin right now. You look positively demented... you big cutie." Niall kissed him again, a little longer this time, before murmuring against his jaw, "Yeah, okay. Trying to be the voice of reason doesn't really suit me anyway. Of course I wanna go away with you.”**

**The grin only got dumber and bigger. And even warmer and sexier. “Send your paper. Our flight's at 3."**

**They ended up at a resort in beautiful Cabo, Mexico. When Niall thinks about this trip years from now, he won't even really remember the little details of what the two of them did - he'll just remember that it was sunny all the time and that he turned red as a tomato while Zayn turned an unjustly nice shade of golden brown. ( _Typical.)_**

**He'll remember that they laughed a lot and that he felt drunk day and night, mostly from indescribable happiness... although all those mojitos may have had something to do with it too. He will remember moments of hazy delicious sex with the sun constantly streaming through the windows and bathing their limbs.**

**Mostly Niall will remember being so very in love, feeling like his life was absolutely perfect and believing with a naive certainty that nothing would ever change between the two of them.**

**................................**

Cabo. It all seemed like a lifetime ago.  _Oh to be young and dumb_ , Niall mused on his drive back to his apartment after the relatively productive hour and a half he’d spent at the office. He planned on going back to the City to surprise Luke with an early appearance, but first he needed to fetch condoms and well, lube, from the drawer in his bedroom. He was pretty sure that Luke had all the necessary equipment in his hotel suite but it was always better to be safe than sorry. This was possibly going to be the first time him and Luke slept together. And Niall wasn’t the type to really get nervous over sex, potential or actual, - he just liked to be well prepared.

As he was standing in his kitchen wolfing down a family size packet of chips, just before he was about to leave to go see Luke, his phone rang in the living room. He dashed for it, thinking it might be someone with information on Miles. But it was Zayn.

“Hey,” Niall said in answer, his voice mostly muffled by crushed Lays.

“Hey, love.”

Zayn had taken to calling him this old nickname again. The first few times, Niall had insisted he stop before soon realising that asking him to stop was very fruitless.

“What do you want?” Niall asked, not in a mean way.

“I’m here with Louis and Harry, we’re heading over to Harry’s apartment in a little while. Louis insisted that we buy alcohol and mountains of junk food - he keeps going on about indulging in his youth or something. Anyway, do you wanna join us?”

Actually. That sounded like a _really_  good way to spend a Saturday night. Really good. But what about Luke?...

While Niall deliberated with himself, Zayn said with a light laugh, “It’ll be fun. Come, please. Food with no nutritional value. Even more empty calories in the form of copious amounts of booze. Just the four of us.”

 _Luke. Luke? Luke_.

Zayn was still rambling. (Niall had a hunch that he’d already started on the beer. At least two by the sounds of it.) Zayn was saying, “Louis told me you spent the day at the office today. Doing work to help  _me_. Do you have any idea how wonderful you are and how much I appreciate you?  _Please_  come. You deserve a break.”

It would just be a drink or two. Not even that probably. Maybe Niall would just pop in and say hello. “Yeah, okay - But I can’t stay long. I have no intention of getting drunk like you slackers, I've got shit to do tomorrow.”

Luke wasn’t expecting him at the suite until way after midnight anyway. It was only going after 8 at that moment. No harm, no foul, right? 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when i last updated, we were on chapter 15 if anybody is confused :)

“It will be just the four of us,” Zayn had said on the phone hours earlier.

Well. He was wrong.  _As he often is_ , Niall thought to himself later on as he observed the scene before him. In the end, the evening did not turn out quite as Zayn had predicted.

‘Four people’ somehow manifested into dozens of people crammed inside Harry’s Brooklyn apartment - dancing people, stoned people, drunk people, mildly intoxicated people like Niall himself...just so. many. people. This was a proper party, not just a get together among a few friends and somehow this slight distinction made the ball of guilt churning in Niall’s stomach churn even more. A Luke-shaped ball of guilt.

But...(if he was perfectly honest with himself) Niall was having a really good time, the most fun he'd had in a while. And maybe it was selfish of him, but he didn’t want to leave.

He did briefly consider inviting Luke to join them. But then he pictured how  _that_ conversation would down, him telling Luke that his meetings had been cancelled but instead of going back to his boyfriend he’d decided to rather get together with his friends and ex-boyfriend. Luke was a great nice guy but even he had his limits and Niall was quickly learning that Zayn was one of those limits. So it was a no-brainer really. Inviting Luke = a bad idea.

In Niall’s defense when he’d first walked into Harry’s apartment at just after 9 o’clock in the evening, he’d vowed to only stay for an hour or two at the most so that he could still be early enough to surprise Luke at his hotel suite.

That didn’t quite work out either.

It all happened like this. When Niall walked into the party, of the maybe five faces in the whole crowd that were known to him or which looked vaguely familiar, Zayn’s was the first to spot him across the dozens of other heads.

“Niall!” He shouted gleefully from across the room where he stood talking to Abena, his Ghanaian model friend and some other blonde girl that Niall didn’t know but who also looked like a model type.

“Coming through, make way, make way.” Zayn elbowed his way through the crowd, and it took a ridiculously long time for him to cross the floor of the living room - he had to break apart gyrating grinding duos and kissing couples which earned him deadly looks each and every time (“Sorry bro, sorry”).

But eventually, he stood before Niall, beaming.

And seriously, was it necessary for Zayn to look so... _happy_  to see him? It almost made Niall want to blush. Maybe he did blush a little. And actually - Niall was kind of glad to see him too.

Zayn stepped unnecessarily close. “I thought you’d change your mind halfway here and not come. Thank you for proving me wrong. How are you? I missed you.” He was half-shouting because it was hard to hear over the Black Eyed Peas song pounding through Harry’s speakers.

Zayn pulled Niall towards him by the arm and engulfed him in a constricted hug that had all their body parts touching and as usual he smelled really good and he felt really  _warm_ and one hand was gripping precariously close to Niall’s ass and his stubble was softly grazing against Niall’s temple. Kind of how it used to graze the insides of Niall’s thighs.

No, Niall wasn’t sure this was a good idea. “Zayn, you saw me like 3 days ago...” he said vaguely, extricating himself.

“Yeah, and what’s your point? I missed you. I bet you missed me too.”

“You’re so drunk. And I have a boyfriend. Who’s back in town, just for your information,” Niall said with a laugh.

“ _Jesus._ What the hell does it take to get him to fuck off for good,” Zayn replied with a bit of a snarky grimace which in fact was just funny given his current level of intoxication. His dark mood didn’t last long though, much to Niall’s amusement. Zayn soldiered on, “Hey, I’m not drunk. Well I’m not so drunk that I can’t talk to you...I like talking to you. I miss talking to you...You’re really beautiful to look at, y'know...I like your eyes.”

“So drunk.”

“A little. Do you wanna join me in my drunkeness? What can I get you to drink?” Zayn grabbed his hand and led him through the dense crowd. Niall spotted a few more familiar faces, some of Harry’s old friends, a few people from the modelling agency.

“Um...” was all Niall could offer as he trailed behind Zayn. He was almost completely sure he didn’t want to drink. It would be much better for all involved if he didn’t turn up at his boyfriend’s doorstep smelling of beer and God knows what else. As he passed Harry and Liam on his and Zayn’s way to the kitchen, he waved briefly but was unable to catch their attention- they were crouched down near the sound system and wrestling over what music to play. All Niall could make out was Liam saying something along the lines of: “...your shit indie music!  _No_.”

Pushing past more groping couples (seriously what was this? middle school?), Zayn and Niall finally made it to the mostly deserted kitchen. And no, scratch Niall’s earlier thought - he did want a drink. It had been a really long week and he was so over being responsible and sensible. It was Saturday night, for fucks sake. Good thing Zayn was evidently thinking along the same lines because he wordlessly retrieved an ice cold beer from one of the giant coolers underneath the kitchen table.

Handing it to Niall a moment later he said with a touch of sexy bravado: “Just because you have a boyfriend doesn’t mean you didn’t miss me.”

“That’s exactly what it means.” They leaned against the counter side by side, in no real hurry to leave the kitchen and brave the crowd again.

Zayn snatched the beer out of Niall’s hand and took a generous swig before he gave it back. Lord knows why he didn’t just get his own. He licked his lips (and Niall definitely did not stare while he did that), turning to Niall with a slight smile. “You know, some people think I should give up on you. Abena says I should stop forcing this before I creep you out even more than I already do - her exact words. Kevin says I should let it go and move on, try to be happy...But I can’t do that.”

Only one part of what Zayn had just said really stood out to Niall. He enquired lightly, “Kevin said that, did he?”

Zayn stole the bottle of beer again, this time lingering even longer as he sipped. When he handed it back he laughed at the deadly daggers Niall was shooting his way. “Technically that was only one sip... Yeah, he did say that. He’s probably scared it’s gonna start affecting my work again. I sort of went off the rails for a while when we broke up.”

It took all of Niall’s restraint not to roll his eyes - not because of Zayn going off the rails but because Niall would be willing to bet his entire sneaker collection that ‘concern over Zayn’s job’ had _not_  been Kevin’s thinking behind saying what he did.

But all Niall said was, “Warms my heart. His concern is so touching.”

Zayn was vaguely intoxicated but not so drunk that he’d lost all his sharpness. “Not quite as touching your sarcasm.” 

Niall hummed in response and walked the few short steps to Harry’s fridge and opened it, hoping not to be disappointed by its contents. And he wasn’t. Unlike his own sad fridge which was currently housing a dried wrinkled carrot and leftover pizza, Harry’s was well stocked with a plethora of delicious things to choose from (Niall chose a container filled with barbequed chicken wings).

When he walked back, container in one hand and chicken wing in the other, to where Zayn was standing, Niall found him taking yet another drink from Niall’s beer. He exclaimed in exasperation, “Get your own! You’ve drank half of mine already.”

But Zayn just laughed at him and raised the bottle to his lips again.”I know, and I don’t even like this brand.” He wrinkled his nose. Then he smiled in a way which was worrying to Niall. “But I do like your lips. And this way, I’m kinda touching them.”

“So  _so_  creepy. Abena was onto something.” Niall shook his head and placed his bottle out of Zayn’s reach on the other side of himself.

A thought occurred to Niall right then. He muttered in between mouthfuls of chicken, “You know, for someone who might be sued for all they’re worth any day now, you sure are jolly. Shouldn’t you be a bit more subdued? I thought _that_  would be the one perk I could enjoy from you having legal woes.” But Niall didn’t really mean it. He’d always loved quiet thoughtful Zayn, but drunk annoying Zayn was fun to have around too.

Drunk annoying Zayn said in response, “My legal woes as you call them, made me realise that life is short and material things are just things - it's better to spend your time enjoying yourself, not necessarily partying, but just enjoying yourself with the people you love. That’s what I’m doing.” He looked at Niall pointedly as he said that last part and his meaning was clear.

Luckily, before Niall had to think of something to say in response, in walked Louis and Harry (hand in hand, which wasn’t all that surprising) and right behind them was Liam with Candice from Niall’s office (Liam’s arm wrapped around Candice’s waist, which  _was_  surprising).

Louis let go of Harry’s hand to lunge forward and messily fold Niall into his arms. Louis stage-whispered, “Glad you could make it buddy. Now tell Harry it’s okay for me and him to date.” The thing is, he said it so menacingly that Niall burst out laughing, loudly and without warning, earning himself a raised eyebrow from everybody but Zayn (who was too busy sneaking a drink from Niall’s beer yet again).

Evidently deciding that he had _no time for this whatsoever_ , Louis pulled away from the ‘hug’ and placed himself smack in the middle between Niall and Harry. Looking right at Niall, he prodded with intent, “Niall? It’s okay with you if Harry and I go out to dinner tomorrow, right?” His voice was light but the look in his eyes meant business.

Niall nodded eagerly.

“And the reason it’s okay is because you don’t hate Harry and you’re happy for us and you can’t think of anything better than your two friends going out, right?”

Well, that was pushing it just a tad. But still, Niall thought it wise to just nod again. He even threw in a smile for good measure.

Zayn was staring at Louis with a kind of reverent awe, his eyes wide and amazed, and Niall wondered what was up. He soon found out when Zayn hissed at Louis, “How did you do that? How did you get him to just nod and agree to everything? I can’t get him to agree to do anything.”

Louis picked up a chicken wing, bit into it and said nonchalantly, “It’s a skill that can’t be taught, my friend.”

Zayn nodded solemnly as if to say  _yes, that’s just what I’d feared_. His face lit up a moment later. “Tell him he should let me take him out tomorrow. Get him to nod again.”

“Hey!” Niall interjected, while Candice and Liam giggled at his expense in the background. “I’m not some puppet. He can’t get me to agree to whatever he wants.” Really now. Just because Niall feared for the safety of his limbs if he were to cockblock Louis, didn’t mean he could be manipulated into anything else.

Louis offered Zayn a sympathetic look, even patting him on the back fondly.”Zayn. Don’t buy into that tedious I-don’t-want-you-back game he’s playing. Let me tell you a secret about him...” He leaned in and whispered something long and winded into Zayn’s ear. Something which made Zayn look doubtful but also, a little hopeful. Zayn pulled back and looked at Louis with round eyes, asking lowly, “Really?” And when Louis nodded, the smile that grew on Zayn’s face was quite a sight to behold.

“Heeyyy. No whispering.” Harry said petulantly. “I also wanna know so I can get happy like Zayn too.” But Louis and Zayn were both resolutely mum after this. Damn. Niall actually wanted to know what all the whispering was about too but unlike Harry, he wasn’t about to ask.

 _Screw Zayn and Louis_. Niall ignored his best friend and ex-boyfriend from that moment on, turning his attention to Candice and Liam who were hovering near the doorway side by side. Upon Niall’s close scrutiny, a pink tinge appeared on Candice’s cheeks and she looked down at her gold heeled feet while Liam looked down at  _her_  rather fondly.

Niall took a step closer to them and asked teasingly, “When did this happen?” At the word ‘this’, he gestured at the two of them. Niall was enjoying his friend Candice’s mild discomfort. Mostly because she and Louis loved to gang up on him back at the office and get on his case about Zayn.

Although clearly the question hadn’t been directed at him, Louis butted in helpfully, “Two hours ago. This, them, it happened two hours ago...It was quite sweet to watch. They bonded over their mutual affinity for EDM and then Liam went in for the kill in the middle of her yapping about Will.i.am. He just swooped in and kissed her. A small peck at first and then he got braver. Didn’t think he had it in him.”

By this point, both Liam and Candice were blushing profusely. A moment later they retrieved a few bottles from the cooler, which was supposedly the reason they’d come into the kitchen in the first place, and then they hastily retreated, maybe to talk some more EDM.

“You scared them away,” Harry said looking a touch concerned as he stared in the direction they’d disappeared off into. “And I still wanna know what all the whispering was about.”

Louis didn’t answer him at first but after a moment’s consideration the look on his face turned playful and that look spelled t-r-o-u-b-l-e. “Alright, Harold. I’ll tell you a secret. But I’m not going to tell you what I told Zayn. I’m going to tell you something about me.” And with that, he wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and tugged on that neck so that Harry had to bend down. It anybody’s guess what Louis was softly telling him but whatever it was, it made Harry dimple mischievously and look down at Louis like he wanted to lick him right then and there.

“Get out you two,” Zayn said immediately, not unkindly though, as he pointed at the door. “Go to Harry’s room or something. Only one cute couple allowed in the kitchen at a time.” Amazingly, they complied with this instruction. Or maybe it wasn’t so amazing - some alone time seemed to be the very thing they suddenly needed and wanted.

“What did Louis say to you?” Despite his earlier resolve to act like he didn’t care, this was the first thing Niall demanded to know as soon as their friends were gone.

Zayn yawned and stretched, never breaking eye contact, looking just a little smug. A little belatedly Niall realised that Zayn was wearing an old green Adidas shirt of Niall’s underneath his favourite leather jacket. Before Niall could question him on that, Zayn was grabbing his hand and twirling him around in some awkward dance.  _So_  drunk. Then Zayn started legit slow dancing, his one hand on Niall’s lower back and his other hand outstretched and entwined with Niall’s. Lord only knew what music in his head he was dancing to.

Without warning, he dipped forward, sending Niall bending over backwards. Niall was certain he was going to fall but Zayn just held him there steadily and murmured warmly with his eyes locked on Niall’s lips, “Louis gave me some words of encouragement. Unlike some other people, he has reason to believe I shouldn’t give up on you. And he told me what those reasons are.”

“I highly doubt he told you anything valid...But humour me. Those reasons are...?”

“Not telling you...” was the immediate response. Zayn uprighted them and like some drunken mess of a tornado he suddenly stopped dancing, took a swig of water from the bottle Harry had left in the kitchen and hurriedly led Niall out of the kitchen. “Let’s get outta here! Come out for a walk with me...”

“What?” Niall could barely keep up. Zayn yelled their goodbyes to Liam on their way to the door. But Niall still didn’t quite understand, where were they going exactly?

Once they’d stepped outside and were met by the cool autumn breeze, Niall asked that very question, “Where are we going exactly?”

“Just a walk down the street. I kinda wanna talk to you away from all that noise.”

Niall wasn’t too sure about this. “Is it safe here?” They were currently in Brooklyn after all.

Zayn laughed at him but simultaneously his eyes softened as he did. “You’re still just an adorable little rich boy at heart, aren't you? Yes, this street is perfectly safe. And hey, you’re with somebody who’d gladly take a bullet for you so just relax, nothing’s gonna happen to you.”

“Bullet?” Niall asked nervously, licking his lips as he glanced around. “Under no circumstances are you to take a bullet for me. Are we clear? I wouldn’t let you. Let’s just go back inside?”

“I’m kidding about there being bullets.” Zayn was barely containing his chuckles though he was valiantly trying to. “Totally kidding. I was just trying to say that I wouldn’t take you somewhere where I wasn’t completely sure you’re safe...But if it makes you feel better, we can go sit in that diner across the road. It’s a little chilly anyway.”

Diner = Warm. Safe. Probably yum food...Easy decision for Niall. He nodded and said, “Diner it is then. But only if you buy me hot chocolate.” Yeah, it wasn’t lost on Niall that for somebody who didn’t believe in his powers of persuasion, Zayn wasn’t having too much trouble getting Niall to agree to do stuff lately.

It was all worryingly reminiscent of their early years when Zayn only had to smile at Niall in a certain manner and Niall would suddenly be happy putty in his hands. At least it had worked both ways, though. Zayn would try to act tough, try to stand his ground, try to stay mad whenever Niall used to make him angry, but a wobbling lip and sad blue eyes were all it really took for him to unravel.

...................................

They went into the safe, warm diner across the street and Zayn ordered hot chocolate as promised and gigantic slices of perfect apple pie and vanilla ice-cream. But this wasn’t just some random trip outside to get away from a party - Zayn had something serious on his mind. Which made Niall consider the possibility that he’d vastly overestimated the extent to which Zayn was drunk.

Zayn leaned back in the seat, looking very at ease. “I wanna talk to you... about some things. I realised recently that I haven’t really laid everything down and told you how I feel. I mean, it’s pretty obvious how I feel but I haven’t really told you, apart from saying you should break it off with Luke and get back together with me.”

Niall shrugged as he licked his spoon, deliberately avoiding Zayn’s eyes. What was he supposed to say?

Zayn continued, “So I’m going to tell you today, right now.” He paused and didn’t start talking again until Niall looked up and made eye contact. “And then after that I won’t bring up my feelings again. There’ll be no point because you’ll  _know_  how I feel. We’ll only talk about us if, no  _when_ , you yourself bring it up.”

Well, Niall certainly hoped that Zayn wouldn’t be holding his breath waiting for Niall to bring it up. Because Zayn would definitely die, blue in the face, no question about it.

Niall tuned back into what Zayn was saying. Which was: “Let me start with this. If I could get over you Niall, if that was an option. I would choose it in a heartbeat. Wanting you this much and not having you, really fucking sucks. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy,” Zayn said quietly.

He wasn’t quite done.  Not even close. “And I get frustrated because I know the stuff I did before...I didn’t deserve you and you were right to move out. But I deserve you now, Niall. I swear it,” he declared earnestly. The pull of his eyes was magnetic and Niall couldn’t look away. “I deserve you  _now_  solely because I can make you happy. That’s all I want to do.”

 “Luke makes me happy,” Niall belatedly remembered to say after too long a pause in the conversation.

But Zayn shook his head. “You know what I think? I think you’re content with him...you’re comfortable. And the problem is this - you’re such a passionate fired-up person, Niall. Being comfortable, being content...eventually that won’t be enough for you. Though you’ll try to act like it is for the longest time possible.”

Niall had heard quite enough of this. “I  _am_  content. And guess what? Having a boyfriend who makes you content and comfortable is a whole lot better than having one who makes you heart-broken,” Niall countered softly.

Zayn looked so sad at those words and for a few moments they sat in thick heavy silence and Niall thought that maybe, just maybe, Zayn had given up. But then Zayn sat up a little straighter, took a deep breath and started again. “I know you have no reason to believe in anything I have to say. I know you don’t trust me. But all I need is just a chance to show you that I’m different now. Because I believe in myself now and I believe in us. That’s how I know I’ll never hurt you again... I love you so fucking much. Never stopped.”

Zayn leaned forward and said it again. “I  _love_  you. I don’t think I’ve told you that in over a year. You know I don’t throw that word around. When I say I love you I mean that I would do anything in my power to make you happy. I mean that I'll support you in anything you wanna do and I want your dreams to come true just as much as I want mine to. When I say I love you I mean that if I could, I’d make love to you every day as though we had mere minutes left on this shithole of an earth and the clock was ticking.”

For whatever reason, Niall felt like he couldn’t quite breathe. But Zayn was still going and Niall wanted to put up a trembling hand and tell him to  _Stop. Please stop_. But he couldn’t say a word. He couldn’t do anything but sit there and listen.

“I want to be there to make you feel better after you’ve had a crap day. I wanna be free to hold you when you’re sick and hold you some more when something good happens. I need you back Niall, it’s gotten way past the point where I just want you back. I wish -” He looked beseechingly across the table, his eyes suspiciously bright with moisture. He blinked a couple of times until his eyes cleared. “I really swear-to-God love you. And I guess that’s it really, that's the one thing I need for you to know. I love you. I’m so sorry for hurting you. And lastly, please give me one small chance.”

For a while, they sat across from each other with neither of them speaking - Zayn waiting for Niall to say something and Niall desperately trying to remind himself of all the reasons why he shouldn’t trust a word Zayn was saying.

 _Trust_. Yes, that was the one thing they would always come back to. Zayn proved a long time ago that to a certain extent he hadn’t trusted Niall and now because of that, Niall couldn’t trust him.

Speaking in a low voice that was really a near-whisper, Niall told him honestly, “I can’t. I can’t ever put myself in that position again... It nearly killed me. For a month or so after we broke up, I partied a lot and I was able to kind of distract myself...But then it all came crashing down on me one day and I didn’t know what to do. The only person I could think of to turn to was the very person who’d broken me. I never thought it was possible to hurt that much.”

This time Zayn didn’t bother to blink away the damp filling his eyes. “I was broken too. I’d wake up in the middle of the night and for a split second before I remembered everything I’d reach for you. And then I’d break down as soon as I remembered. Every night without fail. I was so lost and I missed you so much, I couldn't function for months... I made the biggest mistake of my life, Niall. By hurting you and lying to you and being such a fucking idiot. And I will always regret it.”

Suddenly, he slid across the booth and stood up, pulling Niall to his feet too. “You don’t have to trust me right now, here today. I know that’s too much to ask for. All I want is a fair opportunity to gain your trust back, work for your trust. Will you let me do that?”

“I can’t,” Niall insisted again after a pause.

“You can. But right now you won’t.”

“Same thing.” No it wasn’t. Niall knew that.

“No, it’s not...C'mon, I wanna play you a song.” Zayn led him away from their booth towards the modern jukebox on the other side of the mostly deserted diner. When they got to the box, Zayn rapidly pressed a few bright-coloured buttons and then beamed when a song started crooning through the speakers:

_I don't wanna go there, we should never go there..._

_Please don’t judge me_

_And I won’t judge you_

_It could get ugly_

_before it gets beautiful_

Niall stared at him incredulously. “No way some random jukebox on Harry’s street has this song!”

Zayn was still smiling and he sang along with a few lines before saying, “It’s no coincidence. I made them add it after me and Harry starting coming here to eat regularly. It reminds me of you...Not really the lyrics, although kind of. But mostly the memories behind this song remind me of you... Dance with me.”

Niall rolled his eyes and laughed for the first time in the entire past hour. “What’s gotten into you today? Who are you? You hate dancing, remember?”

“Yeah but you love it. Dance with me.”

When Niall made no movements to do anything of the sort and just stood there looking at Zayn with a raised eyebrow, Zayn took it upon himself to grab Niall’s arms and place them around his own neck. And then he carefully placed his own hands mid-way on Niall’s back. And then they started moving across the thankfully empty diner floor, doing the most awkward shuffle known to man. This earned them a brief derisive glance from their stout old waitress but she didn’t seem to care too much, turning back to wiping her tables.

This felt nice, Niall admitted. Zayn felt nice. “Nice” if nice could be defined by Niall’s heart pounding in his chest and him being embarrassingly aware of the feeling of Zayn's body rocking against his. Mid-way through the song Zayn murmured, “You remember when I used to come back from my trips when I first started modeling? Sometimes I’d only be gone for 3 days, sometimes for longer. But it didn’t really matter how long or short I was gone...you’d always jump on me as soon as I walked in through the door. And whenever you did that, I’d just hug you back because I’d missed you that fucking much too. And every single time you’d tell me you were gonna lock me away in our bedroom so that I couldn’t ever go away again.”

“Stop,” Niall mumbled half-heartedly. He already had an idea where Zayn was going with this. Plus, hearing this kind of  _hurt_.

And Niall was right about where Zayn was taking this. “Your boyfriend’s back in town today. And for whatever reason, when I invited you over to this party you didn’t say no. And I’m not judging you for that...I’m really glad you decided to come. But surely you can understand why I’m not ready to give up on you? When there’s even the smallest chance that you know deep down inside he can’t make you feel what I did?”

“Stop it,” Niall said desperately, a little louder this time. They were still dancing and it almost felt to Niall like they were floating, like he was having an out of body experience. What was even happening right now?

“Okay, I’ll stop.” But what Zayn did next was much,  _much_  worse for Niall’s sanity, for his crumbling defences.

Zayn began with a kiss below Niall’s ear, staying there for a few seconds with only the slightest tip of his tongue stroking Niall’s skin. And Niall closed his eyes, felt his heart start to stutter unevenly. His knees felt unsteady and his breathing didn't sound normal even to his own ears. And shit, Niall knew he was in trouble. Zayn closed his eyes too and left a sequence of scorching kisses along Niall’s jaw, moving closer and closer to his target. Niall literally felt like his skin was on fire. He’d forgotten what it was like to feel like this, to have somebody consume each and every one of your senses until nothing and no one else in the world mattered in those moments you were together.

Finally, Zayn moved from the skin on Niall’s cheek and jaw and instead hovered right over Niall’s lips for a second. It was actually Niall who opened his eyes, found Zayn’s staring back at him like he was the best thing in the world. It was Niall who surged forward that last semi-inch until their mouths connected-  lips smashing together, tongues colliding and a simultaneous soft moan rising from both of them and filling the space around them.


	24. Chapter 24

Niall was in so much trouble.

He’d suspected he was in deep shit when Zayn started telling him how much he loved him, but he pretty much knew for sure that he was in over his head the second they kissed. And that was another thing - Niall had kissed  _him_ , so he couldn’t even get mad at Zayn over this. It would be so much easier to just get mad at him. So much easier than feeling all of this all at once.

Niall wasn’t sure exactly how long the kiss lasted or how exactly his hands ended up gripping the hair on the back of Zayn’s head or why his knees actually jerked when Zayn pulled back at one point to kiss each of Niall’s eyelids before reattaching their lips again. The only thing Niall really knew about the kiss was that it meant he was a terrible person - because it was only when their lips were bitten raw, their eyes blown wide and their chests rising and falling in unison- it was only then when they pulled apart that one name came to the forefront of Niall’s previously mushy mind. “Luke.”

Zayn frowned when Niall said that, but he didn’t let go of him. He tried for a joke but the lightness in his voice didn’t quite reach his eyes. “The name’s Zayn. Keep up.” His grip on Niall’s waist tightened possessively as if Luke was right there in the diner with them.

Niall shook his head and smiled faintly. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. A few moments later he tried to explain, his words a lot less eloquent than usual. “No, I mean. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m sorry. I have - Luke. I shouldn’t have done - this. With you.”

“So...” Zayn appeared thoughtful, almost casually so. “What you’re saying is that you regret kissing me? You wish you hadn’t done it?”

“Yes.”

“And that you wouldn’t do it again?”

Niall paused for a milli-second. But when he spoke, he sounded very sure. “I wouldn’t do it again.”

Before Niall even had time to react, Zayn’s lips were lifting up in a wry smile and then suddenly those lips were on Niall’s, warm and soft and swollen. And shit, Niall had thought he’d had his fill of kissing Zayn earlier but evidently not - for a few seconds he licked into his mouth just as hungrily as before. But, at least this time he came to his senses quicker. He broke the kiss, gasping, “Stop. Just  _stop_. I can’t do this.”

“You can. Break up with him.”

“Easy for you to say!” Niall said in exasperation. “It’s so easy for you. You come here with your wonderful words, and you come here and you’re so sincere and you look at me that way... How am I supposed to...” Niall trailed off. He wasn’t really sure where he was going with this. He felt so out of control here and he  _hated_  feeling like he wasn’t in control of himself. He hated that Zayn could affect him like this. Most of all he hated that Zayn had turned him into the kind of person who felt like he needed to constantly guard his emotions and not let them run away from him.

Zayn laughed softly and it sounded extremely sarcastic to Niall’s ears. And Zayn finally let go of his grip on him. “You think this is easy for me? You think it’s easy to hear you say another man’s name right after we kiss? You think it’s easy to watch you, right now, planning your escape route from this room? I can see it on your face.”

Niall didn’t try to deny it. It was true that he was already planning when and how to get going...and what the hell he was going to say to Luke. But he didn’t want to leave things as they were with Zayn. “I don’t want to fight with you. Really, I do not want that. We were doing so well, it finally felt like we were starting to be friends again -“

Zayn interrupted him, starting to look a little mad for the first time. “You and me are not  _friends_. Never were. At least not in the way you’re trying to imply. That’s not what this is. Stop kidding yourself.”

Again Niall didn’t have anything to counter what Zayn was saying. So instead he settled on telling him, “I’m sorry. At the end of the day, no matter who made the first move, I kissed you and that’s on me, no one else. I’m going back to the party. I need to talk to Lou. And then after that I need to talk to Luke.”

With that Niall left him standing there in the diner, didn’t bother to say anything else or look back as he marched across the street to Harry’s apartment. The truth was that he couldn’t really stand to witness the deep pool of hurt in Zayn’s eyes for a second longer.

If Niall were thinking and acting smart, he would’ve left the party right then. He would’ve left Bushwick, Brooklyn altogether and got into a cab and gone straight to the Trump International Hotel in Midtown East where Luke was staying. But Niall’s guilt was making him indecisive. And seeing as he’d just proved to himself that he couldn’t really rely on his own judgement at the moment, he felt it was best to talk to a friend he could trust.

“Louis.” Niall found him huddled on the couch inside Harry’s apartment with Harry himself, the two of them gently making out like there wasn’t a heavy dude strumming his guitar on Harry’s side and two drunken girls (one of them sobbing) on Louis’ side. Niall felt only a little guilty when he shook Louis’ shoulder and called his name.

Louis broke away from his kissing partner and the look on Niall’s face must’ve been pretty awful because he got up immediately and followed Niall to the kitchen. Niall mouthed a quick heartfelt “Sorry” to Harry before they left him on the couch looking a little lost.

“I kissed Zayn.” Niall went straight into it as soon as the two of them were alone.

“Okay.” Louis didn’t look even remotely shocked and Niall didn’t like that one bit. He was supposed to be shocked. Niall and Zayn kissing wasn’t meant to happen.

Niall thought that maybe Louis was waiting for more details before he commented sufficiently so Niall gave them to him. "I mean, I didn’t just jump on him. Technically he started it. We went to have hot chocolate across the road and we were dancing. Like, slow dancing. And then he started kissing on my face and my neck. And next thing I knew, I was kissing him.”

“Okay,” Louis said again, in a measured way like he was choosing his words - word - very carefully.( _Seriously??)_  Upon seeing the incredulous manner in which Niall was looking at him, Louis added, “And how do you feel about it? Besides the fact that you’re obviously freaking out...”

Niall started pacing, agitatedly trying to force his blond locks into something resembling orderliness -Zayn had messed up his hair. ”How do I feel? I feel like the world’s biggest jerk! I feel like I’ve switched to an alternate universe or something... because, how the fuck did this even happen? We were just talking one minute, then next thing...”

Louis finally had something more to say, much to Niall’s relief. “I’ll tell you how I feel too. Not surprised.” Louis shrugged. He walked up to Niall and stopped his pacing by backing him up against the counter and then stepping back. "Buddy. I’m not one to say I told you so unless it’s absolutely necessary. So I’m sorry, but I did kinda tell you so. I told you from the start that this thing with you and Zayn wasn’t finished and that you shouldn’t get together with Luke before you sort yourself out with your ex.”

“That’s  _so_ unfair. - I didn’t think this would happen, I didn’t plan this.” But still, Niall knew that his current predicament was indeed his own fault - if he hadn’t gotten involved with Luke straight after Zayn came back into his life and while his emotions were so jumbled, he wouldn’t have ended up betraying Luke like he just did. A second later Niall asked frantically, “What should I do?”

Louis’ answer was immediate. “You should figure out what the hell you want and once you do, you should let both Zayn and Luke know. But even before you do that, you need to decide whether you’re gonna tell Luke what happened tonight. I can’t tell you one way or another what to do there. There’s arguments for both sides.”

They talked a bit more. Most of the talking was Niall berating himself and hating himself. Eventually Louis shoved a beer into his hand and said kindly, “You’re not driving, right? Drink this. You need to relax. Otherwise you’re gonna have a full-on melt down.”

The beer did help to take the edge off a bit. He nursed that beer for a good half hour, probably stalling for time just a little. During that time Zayn came back to the party and Niall saw him and Harry go off past the kitchen, most likely on their way to Harry’s room to have a private talk of their own.

The beer calmed Niall down just enough and it was because of this that he was able to decide what he was going to do. About Luke.

.........................

When Luke let him into his suite an hour later just after midnight, the beer(s) seemed to have worn off because Niall was feeling jittery again. And he was feeling nervous and  _so_ guilty all over again. Luke leaned down to hug him and kiss him hello, and when Luke drew back a second later he asked, “Have you been drinking?”

He didn’t even sound mad. Just a little surprised.

Niall hated himself. He nodded and said, “Yeah. A few.”

“Oh, at your meeting? Did you guys have some beers to unwind afterwards?” Luke closed the front door and began leading Niall down the hallway and into the rest of the suite.

Luke was essentially handing him a way out on a silver platter with a ribbon on it. It would be so easy to say _yes, we had a couple beers after our meeting_. But Niall couldn’t lie to him. If he did that he would just be proving to himself that he was indeed a horrible douche of a person.

“No. My meetings were cancelled.”

At that, the expression on Luke’s face became a smidgen less pleasant. “Oh? Okay. So where’ve you been tonight?” The two of them walked into Luke’s room and sat down next to each other on the loveseat near the window.

Niall looked down at his hands for a second, gnawing on his bottom lip. He looked back up. “My meetings got cancelled. And then I got a call. From Louis. And Zayn.” Niall was expecting it but it still made his stomach swirl unpleasantly - the way Luke’s mouth drew into a grim line and the way his shoulders drooped.

Nonetheless Niall carried on. If he stopped now, he didn’t think he’d be able to say everything he wanted to say. “Um, so we were meant to just get together, the four of us, including Zayn's friend Harry. For an hour or two just to eat a bit and have a few beers. Then I was gonna come straight here. But then I got to Harry’s some time later and he must’ve changed his mind or something because it was like, a rowdy crowded party...”

Luke looked straight at him and asked quietly, “Why did you go there in the first place? Why didn’t you come here? We haven’t seen each other in weeks, you see your friends almost every day...Don’t you want to spend time with me?”

Niall  _hated_  himself. He’d expressed this thought internally many times that evening, but only because it was so true.

He said in a rush, "I don’t have any excuse. But I did want to spend time with you. I  _do_. I thought I could do both, see my friends for a short while and then come here and still be early enough to surprise you.”

“It’s midnight.”

Niall swallowed. “I know...I was - I got held up.”

“So I guess the question that remains is, what or who held you up?” Luke looked so serious and Niall wasn’t used to it. He was used to Luke giving him smiles, soft playful touches, happy eyes. Right then Niall wished with all his heart that his meetings had gone on as planned that day.

But it was time to suck it up and face the music. “I don’t even know how to say this. I guess because there’s no easy way to say it.” Niall took a deep breath. “Me and Zayn left the party to talk. And I guess things got a little heavy and emotional during our talk...We - we kissed, Luke. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for it to happen.” Niall waited for a reaction, almost wanting to close his eyes while he waited. Instead he trained his eyes on the fancy carpet design underneath his feet.

Unlike Louis, Luke’s reaction sounded surprised. And mad. Niall wasn’t looking at him but he could hear it clearly in his voice. “You kissed him? You kissed him. Wh- I mean, I never liked you spending so much time with him. Only because I know he still has feelings for you. Any fool can see he does. But. I didn’t actually think you would...” Luke trailed off, sucking in a bit of air and standing up abruptly.

Niall looked up and watched him go sit far far away on his bed right on the other side of the room. “I’m sorry Luke.” Niall wasn’t even sure Luke could hear him. With resolve, he stood up and went to him. “Can I sit with you?” When Luke didn’t say anything, Niall sighed but sat down on the wide soft bed anyway.

“I’m sorry,” Niall said again. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have done what I did. I’m with you and I’m not meant to be kissing other guys. I know that and I’m so sorry.”

Luke still wouldn’t look at him. “If it was just some random guy Niall, it wouldn’t matter obviously. But it’s Zayn. I know that there are actual feelings between you two, so it matters. It matters a lot.”

Well, that didn’t sound quite right to Niall. “What do you mean if it was a random guy, it wouldn’t matter?” He noticed that Luke immediately looked confused by this question.

“Because we agreed to take things slow?” Luke asked. But like he was stating something painfully obvious.

“Yes. But what does that have to do with kissing random guys...”

“Why do I suddenly feel like we’re not on the same page?” Luke turned to him and looked at him for the first time in minutes. Again, he looked confused. Pissed off still, but confused too. “I mean, we never talked about being mutually exclusive...?”

Niall definitely didn’t like the sound of that. “You’re saying you’d have no problem with me hooking up with other men? Meaning you do that yourself? Am I understanding you right?”

“Niall. We’ve been together for almost two months.” Luke appeared to be choosing his words very carefully. ”But we don’t get to see each other regularly. We’ve never even had sex...I thought it was kinda clear that in a relationship in this day and age, that means we’re allowed to...satisfy our needs by other means.”

“This is all news to me.” Niall was trying really hard not to get mad. After all, he was still in the wrong for kissing Zayn and he didn’t want it to seem like he was jumping on Luke’s latest words to try and deflect away from his own mistakes. “We may have never explicitly said that we’re only allowed to see each other, but we also never discussed the opposite. We never said anything about being allowed to see other people.”

Luke shook his head. “That’s the thing. I’m not ‘seeing’ other people. I have sex with some old friends, and a few guys I meet here and there. But I don’t care about them like I care about you, I only like  _you_  in that way. And that is the big difference with what you did with Zayn. You could never look me in the eye and honestly tell me you don’t care about him at all.”

This was quite a lot to take in. Niall processed it as quickly as he could, but still he wasn’t sure how he felt. It was true that his only other recent relationship in many many years was with Zayn and hence he was a bit rusty on dating protocol, being mutually exclusive, when to commit, all of that. Thinking about it now, he felt a bit dumb for blindly assuming that a young handsome guy like Luke, a world famous movie star, was happy to go without sex for months. He couldn’t even really explain to himself why they’d never had sex this whole time.

But despite Niall trying to his utmost to remain reasonable in this situation, that didn’t change the fact that he hadn’t been previously informed about any of this hooking up with other people stuff. Feeling very unsure of himself suddenly, he said, “I’ve been calling you my boyfriend... Are you not?”

“No I am,” Luke said very adamantly. ”I mean, I hope I am. I consider myself your boyfriend and I think of you as mine. But...you hold back a lot and I never really know where I stand with you. I would put myself out there for you and commit, no problem. But I can never do that fully because I don’t think you’d do the same for me. And I’m being patient. My reasoning being that if I give you time and don’t push you, you’ll eventually stop holding back.”

Niall closed his eyes, briefly thinking of a time (long long ago) when his life hadn’t been so complicated. “I don’t know what to say here, Luke. But listen, I’m not the kind of person who’s okay with his boyfriend sleeping with other people -" He paused and rolled his eyes, entirely directed at himself. “I realize that I’m not really in any position to be arguing my case on this, seeing as I just kissed someone who’s not my boyfriend. But the difference is I feel bad about it, while you think it’s perfectly normal. The only part which bothers you is that it’s Zayn I kissed.”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Luke nodded. He was starting to look a lot less angry and more like himself, much to Niall’s relief. “I mean, I don’t actively want you to go out and sleep with other people, Niall. I wish you’d have sex with  _me_. But I can’t stop you from sleeping with other guys and I’m certainly not going to get mad at you for it.”

Well that just didn’t make much sense to Niall, to be perfectly honest. Was this how relationships worked nowadays?

Luke was still talking and whoops, he looked slightly pissed again. “But I will get mad if it’s Zayn you hook up with. I  _am_ mad. Exes are supposed to be off limits. People you may potentially have feelings for are off limits.”

But random guys were fair game?

While Niall shut his eyes again and wished he was someone else right now (anyone else), Luke sat up in bed and laid a gentle hand on his thigh. “What does this mean for us anyway? You kissing Zayn. Where to from here? Did you come here to break things off with me?”

The million dollar question. To be honest, once Niall had made the decision to tell Luke about the kiss, he’d assumed that Luke would break up with  _him._  Now that he was faced with this question, he didn’t know what he wanted to do. He liked Luke, a lot. But things with Zayn had obviously reached a...complicated point. Niall suspected that he’d be better off breaking up with Luke and staying away from Zayn too.

He’d tried to convince himself for so long that he had it together, but tonight had proved that he didn’t really. Things were a mess and he wished he could lock it all up inside a box and not have to deal with any of it for at least a week. Zayn talking about his feelings; the kiss; betraying Luke; Luke’s apparent multiple hook-ups. It was all a bit much. In the midst of it all, Niall couldn’t quite work out if he was meant to be mad at Luke or if Luke was meant to be mad at him.

In response to Luke’s question, Niall said rather haltingly, “What do you want to do? I know Zayn is a bit of a - sore spot for you. So I’ll understand if you want to break up with me.”

“And that’s exactly what I mean,” Luke said a bit sadly.

“Huh?”

“You won’t put yourself out there for me. If you really wanted this, you’d say something like,  _I’m sorry I fucked up. I’m sorry I kissed my ex. I’ll do whatever I can to fix this and make it up to you_. You’d say something like that. But instead you’re basically saying  _Break up with me if you want_.”

“That is not what I’m saying. I don’t want you to break up with me. I’m just trying to say that I won’t blame you if you do,” Niall explained, beginning to feel a little exasperated himself. He wanted to let himself feel mad too but he didn’t know if he had the right to. But he did feel he had the right to express himself and defend himself. "Hey, I’m still trying to wrap my head around you fucking guys back in LA while admitting that you have a boyfriend. That’s not how I do things. But I’m trying to understand, because apparently that’s how you do things...”

Niall paused and finally said what he really wanted to say, ”Look Luke - to be honest, I feel like I’m owed an apology too. Simply because it would’ve nice of you to mention at least once that you’re freely getting laid elsewhere.”

Luke looked appropriately chastisized. “I would’ve told you if I thought I needed to. I wasn’t hiding it from you. I assumed we were on the same page. My mistake. And I’m sorry.”

A minute of moody silence later, Luke asked quietly, “What are we gonna do? I can see that you’re not okay with me having sex outside of this relationship. And I’m not okay with you and Zayn, whatever this thing is between the two of you. I want you to be truly over him and if you’re not, you’re gonna have to tell me.”

Niall rubbed his eyes and thought to himself  _fuck, fuck, fuck_. To say that he was completely over Zayn would obviously be a blatant lie. Niall suspected that his feelings for Zayn ran somewhat deeper than “not completely over him.” What he felt for Zayn was messy and scary and intense (and did he mention scary?). Niall could no longer deny that all those feelings were definitely there.

But Niall also felt like he’d never really tried with Luke. Luke was right about what he’d said - Niall never did fully put himself out there when it came to this. And he’d just expected Luke to be happy with the little he was getting offered. Which wasn’t fair. Didn’t they owe it to themselves to really try, to really commit, and see where it went?

Without warning, Niall yawned wide and loud, surprising them both, and Luke gave him a sympathetic look. “It’s late and you’ve had a long day. Let’s just go to sleep and we can talk about everything in the morning. Okay?”

Niall nodded gratefully. “Yes. Okay.”

It was a little strange changing into a pair of Luke’s sweatpants and getting into the bed with him...It was the first night ever they were spending together, weird as that sounded. It took a while to get comfortable and they had to shift a lot and turn over but eventually Niall found a position he was comfortable with, half facing each other with Niall’s face resting in the crook of Luke’s arm and Luke’s other hand cupping the small of Niall’s back. Niall felt... secure.

It was when they were nearly fully asleep that Niall whispered, “Luke?”

Luke stirred and whispered back, “Yeah?”

“I want to try. I mean... I want to be mutually exclusive. Fuck, that didn’t sound as stupid in my head as it does out loud...”

“That doesn’t sound stupid.” Luke leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

“Yeah so, I want us to try. But that means we both stop kissing and/or fucking other people. I won’t lie to you by saying that I don’t care about him. It’s complicated but I don’t want to act on those feelings. Eventually what I feel for him will fade. But I like being with you. Can we give it a shot and just try? Like, really try?”

There was a pause for such a long time that Niall became convinced he was going to be rejected. But when Luke finally spoke his voice was overspilling with happy emotion. “That’s all I ever really wanted you to say. That you’re willing to try... I am too. Always have been.”

Niall fell into a long sleep with his arms around Luke but just before he did, in that hazy state between slumber and consciousness, warm hazel eyes kept appearing in his mind. He heard the words replaying in his head, “I  _love_  you...Deep down inside you know he can’t make you feel like I did.” And he remembered what that kiss had been like - like nothing else in recent memory, like coming wonderfully alive after being unaware that you’d been comatose. He felt alarmingly close to tears as he remembered how genuine and sincere Zayn had been when he talked about his feelings, and how amazing he made Niall feel whenever he was with him. But he also remembered how euphoric and  _terrified_  giving into his feelings for even a second had made him feel - it had almost felt like that dream he always used to have after the break-up... where he was laughing and teetering on the edge of a steep cliff, and then suddenly he was falling...falling...screaming...And the hazel-eyed man who’d been standing next to him just looked on and didn’t even try to reach out a hand to save him.

Lying there next to Luke, Niall sent up an earnest prayer in the direction of the ceiling that he was doing the right thing for himself and that he wasn’t going to end up hurting everybody and pleasing nobody at the end of the day.


	25. Chapter 25

The next day when Niall went back to his own apartment, he sent Zayn a text just before he headed out to go get some work done with Louis.

He edited and rewrote this text for over 10 minutes. He sat there on his couch, chewing his bottom lip raw as he deliberated and second-guessed himself over every single word. Niall was well aware that he should probably just call Zayn, not text. But he didn’t want to have to speak to him, because Zayn would probably be able to talk him out of this.

_Sorry for running out on you yesterday, I didn’t know what else to say to you. I talked to Luke about what happened. He wasn’t happy about it and things got a bit complicated but I just wanted to let you know that we’ve decided to try and make things work. We feel we owe it to ourselves. You’re still my client but we’re gonna have to stop seeing each other outside of work. I’m genuinely so sorry if any of this hurts you. I never want to hurt you. But I think being with Luke is the smarter option for me._

After he pressed send on his phone, there were long moments where Niall felt queasy as he stared at the ‘delivered’ sign next to the message. Sending that message felt like a mistake, a big horrible mistake, he felt it to his core. But it had been sent and he couldn’t take it back.

There was no response from Zayn and even though he’d been nervous about what Zayn might say, the complete silence felt worse.

The only thing Louis said when Niall told him what he’d decided was, “Wow. Are you sure? Maybe you just need some time on your own to clear your head, away from both of them. But okay, if you’re sure...I hope you’re happy with Luke.” Which actually sounded a lot more like a cautious warning, than well-wishing.

..........................

Despite the fact that his personal life had turned into something resembling a soap opera, over the following week Niall couldn’t and didn’t dwell too much on it - he had a job to do and he wanted more than anything to at least be able to sort out this one thing for Zayn.

As it turned out, the points that they needed to argue were pretty straight forward. What wasn’t straight forward would be getting Armani and L’Oreal on board. It didn’t help that none of them knew where the hell Miles was but that all changed on Tuesday morning when an officer of the state visited Portfolio Inc headquarters and with Niall sitting in on the meeting, the agency laid formal charges of fraudulent misrepresentation against Miles. These charges meant that in the eyes of the law, Miles was violating the terms and conditions of his one-year probation - those terms basically being to stay the fuck out of trouble.

Initially, when they all started working on Zayn’s case, one of the newest junior attorneys had suggested that they argue that the Armani and L’Oreal contracts were null and void in the first place, and therefore that Zayn shouldn’t be held liable at all. But after short consideration, Louis, Niall and Mr Hewlett all ultimately agreed that this defence, although desirable, wouldn’t fly. As Louis pointed out, “The contracts are definitely valid unfortunately. A valid offer was made to Zayn Malik, a valid acceptance was made by Zayn. And benefits in the form of payment were transferred as a result of these contracts, although not all of these payments were transferred to Zayn himself.”

So their only other option was to argue misrepresentation. Misrepresentation of facts by one Mr Miles Devlin.

But the misrepresentation argument was tricky to argue.

Niall knew that it would be and his knowledge was legitimised on the day of the meeting with Armani. The meeting took place in the biggest boardroom at Portfolio Inc headquarters, a round table discussion with Niall, Louis, Mr Hewlett, three representatives from Portfolio Inc and two members of the legal division of Armani fashion house. They’d all decided that it wasn’t necessary for Zayn to attend the meeting unless he wanted to, and seeing as he was currently not present he evidently did not want to. They’d also agreed that Niall would do most of the talking.

Very early into the meeting the head lawyer for Armani was counter arguing, “Misrepresentation is usually only passable in the eyes of the law if that misrepresentation was conducted by the other party. i.e. in this case, if that misrepresentation was done by ourselves, by Armani. If we had somehow misrepresented the facts, there would be reasonable cause for you to argue that the contract should be declared void due to fraud.”

Niall already knew what the heavy-set Latino man was going to say next.

“Seeing as, Mr Horan, you are arguing that your client’s old agent is in fact the one who committed fraud, you are in other words admitting that the issue came from your client’s end of the contract ...To put it bluntly if I may, how is that our problem? We kept up our end of the bargain, we never misrepresented a single fact in any part of the legal document I have in my hand here today. And we expect to be repaid the money that is owed to our company. Or else your client will be facing serious repercussions.”

Louis and Niall exchanged a glance - they had been expecting as much so they weren’t too thrown off this.

Niall leaned forward. “All of that is true, Mr Hernandez. Your company is not at fault with respect to the contents of the contract and is not being accused of misrepresentation. What we are arguing is that my client should not be made to pay the money owed to Armani, due to the simple fact that he was defrauded by a convicted criminal. A criminal who was convicted as a result of similar allegations. We are arguing that even though my client signed the contract to the effect that he would be responsible for the $400 000 repayment, facts given to my client were intentionally misconstrued.”

“I still fail to see why and how Portfolio Inc hiring a criminal has suddenly become our problem,” was Jay Hernandez’s terse retort.

“It’s the problem of everybody in this room,” Niall said calmly. “Our advice to you would be to release Mr Malik from that portion of the contract and secondly, lay formal charges against Miles Devlin to recuperate your costs.”

Jay conversed with his colleague in quiet whispers for a few moments before looking up and addressing Niall, “At the end of the day, while we do sympathise with Zayn, legally Portfolio Inc and Zayn are responsible for recuperating those costs. Why should we have to go through a whole tiresome legal process in the courts, when we have a legal binding contract right here before us?”

“Well, I can give you a few reasons why it would be in your best interest to cut him some slack, if I may...” Niall looked to Mr Hewlett to see if he should proceed and the older man nodded.

So Niall continued, ignoring the sardonic eyebrow Jay Hernandez was raising his way. “We did a little research of our own, Mr Hernandez. A little marketing research of our own, if you will. Turns out that this contract between Zayn Malik and Armani has proved to be far more fruitful for Armani than anybody could’ve envisaged. The company took a chance on a relatively unknown model back then and while the wages he received were very healthy, is it not true that they were quite-below the average market value paid to other models in similar contracts-”

“- Other  _established_  models,” Jay interjected hastily. “What Mr Malik was paid in the initial contract is standard for inexperienced models who receive major contracts..”

Niall nodded graciously, undeterred. “All of that is true. However. Do you dispute that the campaign ended up being much more successful than even your own sales projections had predicted? Approximately 210% more successful according to the projections in your publically available annual financial statements...”

“I fail to see what relevance you think this has,” was the stiff response.

Louis rolled his eyes and looked like he badly wanted to say something none too polite. Before he could do that, Niall surged on, “Wouldn’t you also say that following the campaign two years ago, Armani Man was able to make serious inroads into markets they’d been trying to get a larger piece of for years. India? Japan? 90% of Latin America? Russia? Just to name a few regions. Inroads that were not merely confined to underwear sales but which later spilled over to suits, cologne and even women’s perfume? Don’t you agree that the campaigns featuring Mr Malik were instrumental in increasing and cementing Armani’s brand presence in those areas?”

“One could say that.” This came from the other Armani legal representative, a middle-aged female named Ms Carlton who appeared to be much more reasonable than her colleague.

“Yes, one could.” Niall shot her a brief charming smile and thanked his lucky stars that he was dealing with at least one rational individual. “The point I’m trying to make is that the profits and increased sales that my client has brought to the fashion house far exceed the relative salary he was paid and far exceed this loan that is currently in dispute. They far exceed anything Armani was expecting when they hired him.”

Niall turned to Mr Hernandez because he needed to get him on board too. “For a moment let’s stop thinking like lawyers, let’s put aside the talks about legally binding contracts and who is liable to pay what in the eyes of the law. Let’s, just for a moment, think like businesspeople. Zayn Malik is currently one of Armani’s most successful models, this is a fact. How would it look to the general public, what would it do to sales, if Armani suddenly came out and sued him? Logically you would have to stop all current campaigns featuring him? Meaning massive unnecessary costs, because I can’t imagine that withdrawing all his campaigns worldwide would come cheap?”

Jay Hernandez sighed. Ms Carlton scribbled something in her notes and the two of them did some more whispering.

“Lastly, Ms Carlton, Mr Hernandez...It does not make any business sense for your company to sue my client. This has been a very beneficial business relationship for Armani and I fail to see why you would want it to end.”

“We don’t want it to end. This is not about job performance or how much we value Mr Malik.” Was Mr Hernandez  _trying_  to sound so sour? “But as the legal division, it is simply our job to ensure that contracts are honoured.”

“If you sue my client, I assure you that this relationship will end. His current contract expires in six months and he feels that it would be... _silly_  of him to enter into a new one if you proceed to sue him. Surely you see where he’s coming from?” Niall asked lightly.

Jay sighed again. “What are you proposing then, Mr Horan? And I do hope you have a proposal...you can’t expect us to walk out of here empty handed...”

Niall nodded and slid a piece of paper over to Ms Carlton. “Yes, we do indeed have a proposal for you. $100 000. Payable to your company immediately, $50 000 of which will come from my client and $50 000 of which will come from Portfolio Inc. The rest of the money, $300 000, will be written off where my client is concerned and here is where I again advise you to lay formal charges against Miles Devlin. Let’s be frank, $300 000 is practically pennies compared to the amount of money my client has brought in for your company. Not to mention the money he will bring in if he decides to renew his contract.”

And essentially, that was it. That was all Niall had. He was pretty sure it was good enough but the tension in the room was still palpable as everybody else waited for the two lawyers to make their decision.

Then there was a small nod. From Mr Hernandez. So small and so begrudging that Niall wondered if he’d imagined it. He looked to Louis for confirmation and Louis nodded back at him, smiling like a little shit.

_Thank God._

Hands were shook and promises were made to keep all parties informed during the process that all the smaller details were being ironed out.

Niall was happy that he could at least do this much for Zayn, even if he was probably hurting him in other ways. He didn’t hear a single peep from Zayn until two days after negotiations with L’Oreal were also successfully concluded. That peep came in the form of an email, while Niall was staying late at work on a Thursday night to catch up on some of the work he’d kind of been neglecting while sorting things out for Zayn.

_To: N.Horan@hspa.com_

_From: Zaynjm@gmail.com_

_Thank you so much for what you did for me. You’re a great lawyer and I’m glad you got me out of shit but mostly I’m just really really proud of you. You said you don’t want to see me outside of work and I’ll respect that. In fact, it will probably be best if I let Liam be the one to talk and meet with you whenever it’s needed in future._

_And I said that I wouldn’t bring up my feelings again and I won’t. You’ve made your decision and while I’m 100% positive it’s the wrong one, there’s really nothing more I can do without disrespecting your wishes. A part of me hopes that the two of you crash and burn. But at the end of the day I only want you to be happy. So I hope that you are happy and I hope that if you ever think about me, you’ll remember all the good that happened between us and how much we loved each other. I don’t want you to only remember the bad stuff and I’m kinda scared that you will. You know how I feel about you and that hasn’t changed...But I think for the sake of my own sanity I need to let this go. I tried my best and it wasn’t enough. So I guess that’s it. We had a really good run but sometimes things just don’t work out, I suppose? No matter how much you want them to? God I’ve never wanted anything more than I wanted us to work._

_Anyway I hold no ill feelings towards you over any of this, I don’t think I could if I tried. (I did try actually when I first got your text.) You deserve so much happiness because basically you’re the best human being I know. And I know a lot of human beings. So I’m kind of an expert on this, you’re the best one. I’ll miss you. It’s pretty much killing me right now to even think about how much I’ll miss you. But I know that whenever I think about you, at least I can be glad that I got to have you for a few years. It was the best thing that ever happened to me and I don’t regret it, no matter how much it hurts right now. We were so damn beautiful together and at least I got to experience that once in my life. Maybe if I’m really lucky, I’ll find it again one day._

_Be happy, okay? Whatever ends up happening with Luke or whoever, just be happy._

Zayn was basically giving him everything he’d asked for. So why was Niall currently frozen in front of his computer screen with thick hot tears streaming down his face, the stinging pain beneath his ribcage feeling a lot like his heart was being steadily torn and splintered into tiny pieces right inside his chest cavity. All of those pieces had one tiny name scrawled on them, like a million constant reminders of everything that was lost.

Zayn


	26. Chapter 26

You get these moments in your life. Where you're just sitting there after something monumental has happened and then suddenly it hits you.

It's that horrible moment when you realise with blinding wrenching

_clarity_

that you've just made the biggest fucking mistake ever. And a second later, another realisation comes - that you'll appear to be the world's most selfish indecisive unreliable flake if you try to rectify that mistake.

And then after that comes the wish that you'd listened to everybody when they'd told you to just  _take some time out to get your head straight, to really think things through._ But you didn't listen. You made your decision and now you have to live with the implications of that.

Niall sat there in front of his computer after reading the words Zayn had written to him, brushing streams of tears off his face but they just kept coming- the more he thought about how fucked up everything was and how much he just kind of really needed to have Zayn holding him right then, the harder the tears fell. 

He retrieved his phone out of his pocket and pulled up his contacts, his thumb hovering over Zayn's name for long minutes. He didnt even know what he wanted to say. He just knew that he wanted to talk to him and make sure he knew how wonderful he was and how much Niall didn't want him to be hurting. Niall pressed the contact on his phone and lifted the phone to his ear, gulping hard when it started ringing... In the end though, he really had nothing to be worried about because the line just rang and rang.

Zayn wasn't picking up. And yeah, maybe he was busy with something, but Niall was almost certain that the reason for him not picking up was as simple as him not wanting to talk. And who could blame him? Niall didn't even have anything concrete to offer him apart from an apology. It was probably for the best that he didn't answer, Niall thought to himself as his crying subsided into shaky little breaths and occasional sniffling.

Shit, he had to pull it together. Here he was, a grown man crying at his place of work like a heartbroken 13 year old girl. Granted, that place of work was empty because it was nighttime but still. He needed to get his shit together. Whatever that shit was.

After he'd gathered his suit jacket and briefcase, and just as he was entering the elevator that would take him to the ground floor, his phone buzzed loudly with a message. His heart jumped and landed somewhere near his Adam's apple. But when he opened the message, he let out the breath he'd been holding in an attempt to steady himself. The message was from Luke. Not... someone else.

_Hey baby! I know you're finishing up some stuff at work but do you think you'll be done anytime soon? Can I come over to your place? It's cold and I miss you :(_

Amidst all the other feelings of confusion and something that felt dangerously close to regret, Niall was mostly feeling so so sad. And when you're feeling like that, who else are you meant to turn to if not your boyfriend? Niall wanted so much to make this relationship work and prove to everybody and to himself that he hadn't really fucked up as badly as he maybe suspected he had. He typed back:  _Yeah I just got done. I'll come over to your hotel. Kinda need the drive right now._

Him and Luke  _needed_ to work out. Because if they didn't, that would mean that Niall had turned down everything for nothing. And he wouldn't be able to live with that.

......................................................

 

"You alright?" Luke asked this as the the two of them sat in the living room in Luke's suite, digging into a rib and chicken pizza they'd ordered while they watched some documentary on Old Hollywood that Luke's co-star had raved about. Luke turned down the volume and turned to Niall. "You've been kinda quiet since you got here... And - I didn't wanna say anything in case I was wrong, but you also sort of looked like you'd been crying when you got here... Is something wrong?"

Niall didn't want to answer that. He didn't want to think about any of it. He only wanted the million little thoughts in his head to stop whirling about and driving him crazy. So he did the only thing that made sense to him. He put his plate down without a word. Stood up. Straddled Luke. Placed his arms around Luke's neck. And then kissed him hard, desperately.

Luke drew back. "Niall? Wha-"

But Niall cut him off, shaking his head. He brought their lips together again, wanting so much to feel  _something_  other than this utter sadness. He murmured against Luke's parting lips, "Sshhh. Just kiss me. Don't you want to?"

"Of course I want to. But are you okay? Something's bothering you." Luke seemed genuinely concerned, his brow furrowed as he peered searchingly into Niall's eyes. He was probably looking for answers and Niall made sure that none could be found.

Niall smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner, telling himself for the hundredth time to pull it together. "I'm fine now. Just wanna kiss my boyfriend. So oblige me. I had a bad day at work and I need you to make it better. Please?" And then because he felt it was needed, he played a little dirty, kissing Luke again but this time adding some groin to groin action, rocking against him just enough to make his intentions clear.

And this time Luke didn't pull away to ask any questions, he just wrapped his arms around Niall and kissed him back. Within minutes, Luke was panting and groaning into Niall's mouth, gripping his ass tight as he forced their bodies closer. And Niall was happy for the distraction, almost tearfully happy. He just wanted Luke to make him feel  _good,_ make him forget that he'd been crying like a wreck not too long ago.

Next thing Niall knew the hold on his ass tightened even more. And then Niall was being lifted, his legs wrapped around Luke's waist, as he was carried out of the living room, past the kitchenette and into Luke's bedroom. Luke plopped him onto the bed and immediately covered him. "I've wanted to do this for so long, you have no idea. - wait, I'm not reading this wrong, am I? We  _are_ gonna do this?"

Niall knew that he could just as easily say no and Luke wouldn't sulk too much over tonight not being the night they finally did the deed. But Niall had meant what he'd said... He was determined to make this work. And well, this wouldn't work without  _this._  He didn't want a relationship where sex wasn't in the equation.

Niall nodded his agreement and kissed Luke again, tilting his head upwards and tugging on Luke's average-length hair just to hear the way Luke groaned dirtily. As usual, kissing Luke was nice, heady... spreading a kind of warmth that started in the pit of Niall's belly reaching his fingertips and toes. Yes the kisses felt nice and warm, and they made Niall feel good. But. The kisses definitely weren't like -

 _No._ He needed to stop thinking about that. That was all in the past and it was in the past because that's what Niall had chosen. He pushed Luke away a little, but only so that he could sit up, undo his tie and take his shirt off. He kind of wished that Luke would undress him because to him there was almost nothing sexier than your lover undressing you (roughly or slowly, Niall wasn't picky when it came to that part). But Luke was kind of immobile in that moment, just staring back at him in some kind of awe-filled trance. Luckily he seemed to snap out of it, tearing off his own sweats and t-shirt as soon as Niall was fully naked. Luke barely broke eye contact as he said breathlessly, "Fuck. Jesus. You're so hot. Do you have any idea how much I've thought about doing this..."

"Mmm..." Niall hummed ambiguously in return. He pulled Luke back on top of him and their heads tumbled onto the pillows near the headrest. A second later, he flipped them over so that he was on top. Luke's hands were moving languidly up and down Niall's back as the two of them kissed and Niall kept smirking each time Luke let out a little predatory grunt when Niall brushed the insides of his thighs. The further they went and the longer Luke stroked Niall's cock into hardness, the more Niall realised how much he needed this. He needed to stop thinking and just feel, even for a short while.

Luke was already rock hard beneath him, jutting back and forth against Niall's hipbone, his blue eyes glazed and bleary with how turned on he was. Those blue eyes were so like Niall's own and as Niall looked into them he wondered whether his pupils were half as dilated as Luke's. He also wondered why he was even wondering about what he looked like.

Just as Niall was really starting to get into it and it was starting to feel really fucking good as Luke stroked up and down his length with one hand, Luke stopped abruptly and sat them up before reaching over under his pillow and retrieving a condom and lube with shaky hands.  _Oh_. 

Niall usually liked a little more foreplay and teasing each other, at least the first time he did this with someone. But hey, he was flexible and willing to go with it. He hadn't gotten laid in quite a long time, since just before he started dating Luke, so he was ready to go. Raring to go, in fact.

As Niall watched him, Luke blurted out as he tore the condom wrapper open, "I want you so bad that I feel like this is gonna last 5 minutes. So firstly, I must apologize in advance. I can usually go for much longer, I swear. I'll probably be embarassed about all this later but right now I just wanna fuck. Secondly, can you- can you be on top? I kinda wanna enjoy this for as long as possible..."

Niall laughed for the first time that night, but not meanly, and kissed him. He then took the condom out of Luke's hands and set it aside on one of the pillows they weren't using. "I'm cool with doing it that way but can we work on getting you ready first... I wanna enjoy this, but I want you to too."

Niall stuck his fingers into his mouth and wet them before taking them out  and reaching downwards to work Luke open with his index and middle finger. The moment Niall's fingers brushed against his opening, Luke whimpered and his clutch on the sheets tightened. Niall opened him slowly, licking and sucking on his neck at the same time. Niall supposed he was doing something right because Luke was now gripping along Niall's back and digging his fingers into the pale skin there. Niall kept fingering him, waiting for Luke's muscles to loosen to his satisfaction.

Eventually Niall pulled his digits out, looking down at Luke and asking, "You good?"

"I'm good," was the eager response as Luke palmed his red cock that looked painfully stiff to Niall's eye. Niall went to work on himself, first stroking himself into full hardness and then slipping on the condom Luke had opened earlier. He lubed up liberally, all the while Luke just watched him with penetrating eyes with a look in them that spoke volumes. Niall gave him a dirty grin.

He lined himself up between Luke's legs and have him a slow kiss as he pushed into him all the way. He pulled out a second later and slid back in again, this time with a little more force and Luke's breath hitched in his throat. And as he moved in and out of the engulfing constricted heat, with his hands on Luke's thighs, he almost laughed because oh yeah, he remembered why he'd always loved fucking so much.

The sex was good but like Luke had fairly warned he didn't last very long, coming hard between them with a strangled yell when Niall randomly inserted his fingers into Luke's mouth. Niall was glad to have been able to make him feel good and he was even gladder when Luke slipped a hand between Niall's buttocks and began fingering him with an index finger in time with Niall's hard thrusts. The feeling of those double sensations sent Niall over the edge a while later. He came with his slick fingers raking roughly down Luke's chest.

Before sleep overtook him, a potentially worrying thought occurred to him. Sex with Luke had been great but he hadn't felt like he was on fire inside, he hadn't felt like getting up and shouting from the rooftops that he'd never been so happy to be alive. And maybe it was okay to not always feel that with every person you dated. Maybe. He just didn't really know anymore.

......................................................

 

Two days later Niall was over at Louis' apartment, having dinner with him and Harry and watching the two of them be nauseatingly cute. It was a bit awkward in the beginning because it was painfully obvious that there was somebody missing from this little gathering but Harry had insisted that he wanted to spend some time with Niall, saying that he wasn't about to do what he did last time and choose between his friends. Especially since his re-established friendship with Niall was still on the mend.

The three of them sat around Louis' dining room table (Louis did not  _approve_ of dining in front of the TV on the couch. Ever. Even if it was just him and Niall eating, Niall was still forced to set the table and sit at the table, and do it with a smile on his face.) Louis and Harry had made lasagne and green salad for dinner, and Niall envied them their casual domesticity and happiness, already evident so early on in their relationship. But he was happy for them, too.

He knew that they were purposefully not mentioning Zayn at all for his sake, but he kind of wished that they would or at least just say if Zayn was okay. Eventually mid-way through the meal during a brief lull in conversation, Niall couldn't ignore the elephant in the room any longer.

"How is he?" Niall asked timidly as he moved his food around his plate with his fork. The food was delicious, but Niall hadn't been feeling all that hungry lately. He didn't miss the glance that was shared between his two friends. It looked a little like they felt sorry for him for asking about Zayn. Niall didn't appreciate their pity one bit.

Eventually Harry seemed to settle on this answer, "He'll be okay. You know, with time and all that..."

Niall nodded and looked back down at his plate. That awkwardness in the air was back again.

"Just look at your face!" Louis blurted out loudly without warning, sounding a little angry. Niall looked up at him questioningly.

"Louis..." This soft rebuttal came from Harry and it seemed like a warning.

"No, don't 'Louis' me when you know perfectly well you agree with me... Look at his fucking face Harry. It's enough to make you want to cry!" He turned his attention towards Niall who resisted the urge to cower under his scrutinizing gaze. "You're miserable. And you wanna know what else? You're being a fucking moron."

Now, hang on just a minute. Niall's fork clanked down onto his plate and he retorted heatedly, "Excuse me?!"

Louis didn't flinch. "You heard me. You're a moron and as your best friend it's my job to tell you. Because the day you finally fucking realise you're being an idiot about all this, is the day I have to try and hold you together. Because that day won't be pretty."

Niall had been expecting Harry to come to his aid again, but he was sorely disappointed when Harry said only a little apologetically, "He's right. Maybe I wouldn't have said it in those exact words. But he's right. If you're not happy, what's the point of it all?"

Niall had heard quite enough from the smug little lovebirds who thought they knew it all. Who did they think they were?? "Who are you two to lecture me right now? Just because you're all loved up and still in that rosy shiny honeymoon phase, you think you can tell me what I should do? You guys don't know shit..." Niall had no idea when he'd started crying. Fuck. "You guys don't know. It's not always rosy and happy, okay. It's hard and it's scary. And you put yourself out there and you give somebody the power to tear your heart to shreds, but you don't actually think they'll hurt you like that. And then they do."

The silence that followed was long and painful. Neither of his friends knew what to say to him. And Niall wanted to tell them:  _that right there is the whole point... Sometimes there is absolutely nothing that can be said or done. Things just are the way they are._

"You're scared," Harry said suddenly, and sadly, like the idea was just dawning on him. Niall wanted to tell him that he wasn't scared, he was just being smart about things.

"He's stubborn, is what he is." But Louis didn't sound angry like before.

"Okay, maybe that too," Harry conceded. He leaned back in his chair, appearing thoughtful as he continued in his careful slow drawl. "Can I try to offer some insight, as the person-in-question's best friend? I'm not gonna get into everything that happened in the past but I will tell you that he's changed since then. For the better. He's not so unsure of himself anymore and he knows himself now. I don't think he would ever doubt the person he loves again. And that person is you, always has been. I'm willing to personally vouch for him. If he got you back, he'd make it his life's mission to never mess up like that again."

When Niall didn't say anything, Louis added, "I am  _always_  on your side. It pains me to see you like this, that's why I'm trying to get through to you. Look Niall, buddy, I don't have enough social etiquette to tell you in nice little words like Harry does. It's like this, you love Zayn - don't fucking look at me like that, you do! - You love him and he loves you. You don't love your boyfriend, and I have no idea if he loves you but it doesn't even matter if he does. One sided relationships are built to crumble. You're only going to end up hurting Luke if you keep this up."

Louis stood up from his place at the table to go sit beside Niall. "Harry told me what happened between you and Zayn back then that made you break up. Seeing as trying to get it out of  _you_  was like trying to squeeze blood out of a rock. And I get it, everything that went down with Zayn was shitty, he acted like an asshole. But at some point you're gonna have to decide whether you can forgive someone who deserves forgiveness or whether you're really just gonna spend the rest of your life being miserable and scared. It's as simple as that."

Niall felt embarrassingly close to breaking down into sobs, which would be even more humiliating than the few tears that had been occasionally falling down his cheeks up until then. So he pushed his chair back and stood up, mumbling something to the effect of, "I should get going. Thanks for... for dinner." 

"Please don't go," Harry said. "We'll shut up about Zayn. Just sit down and stay? Please. This was meant to be a nice dinner. We didn't mean to gang up on you."

Surprisingly Louis nodded. Even though that nod only came after Harry gave him a  _look._ So Louis nodded and said, "No more talk about Zayn."

Niall sat back down grudgingly and picked up his fork again.

Louis said brightly, "So... Now that a change in topic is in order.... You looking forward to Luke's movie premiere on Saturday?"

Luke's new movie was having its New York premiere that week and it was kind of a huge deal. The red carpet was expected to attract many of Hollywood's hottest young stars and the media buzz over the premiere had been at an all-time high for weeks.

But Niall wasn't going to be attending. "He can't take me to those things..."

"Why?" His friends asked this simultaneously, looking confused.

That had been Niall's reaction when he'd casually asked Luke what kind of suit he should wear to the premiere,  and was then told very sheepishly that he was in fact not invited to the event at all. But he'd understood Luke's reasoning. Mostly.

Niall explained as best as he could. "Maybe it would be different if Luke acted in sitcoms or like on Glee or something. But Luke's an action movie star whose whole image depends on him being seen as all masculine and virile and desirable to women, an All-American hero... His team doesn't think it would do any good for him to come out as gay. And he agrees. And I can see where he's coming from. I don't think the world is quite ready for the star of a major action blockbuster to ride up to the premiere with his boyfriend in tow."

Harry brushed his hair out of his face and nodded. After a pause he said,"Yeah, I get it. I wish that kind of thing didn't matter to people, but it does. Sucks."

"And how do you feel about this, Niall?" Louis wanted to know. "I mean, I feel bad for the guy that he has to hide a part of himself in order to do the kind of work he wants. But how do you feel? You've been out and proud since you were 14. It must suck to have to go around lying again."

Niall answered with just a little heat, "Everybody that matters to me knows I'm dating him. I don't care who else knows or doesn't know."

But Louis was unrelenting. "But you can't like, bring him to work functions as your date. You can't go to the mall with him - potential mobbing aside - you can't just go there and hold his hand or kiss him. Are you happy to spend your relationship holed up indoors?"

Niall sighed. He knew Louis meant well and while he also knew Louis had a point, things weren't as simple as he was trying to make them out. Niall told him patiently, "We won't spend all our time indoors. Luke has gone out in public with his boyfriends before, to lunch and to the gym. Lunch, rarely dinner. He goes to gay clubs once in a while. There's rumors all around Hollywood about his sexuality, but his team makes sure they stay just that - rumors, never any concrete evidence. So yes I can't kiss him in public and I can't tell too many people that we're dating, but I can work around this. It's not a big deal."

Harry nodded helpfully and said, "You can work around almost anything in a relationship." Then he added cryptically, "If you truly love the person, that is." 

For some reason Niall got the impression that Harry was implying that Niall didn't feel that way about Luke, so he didn't answer him.

Louis stared Niall down for a few moments but something in Niall's expression made Louis' eyes soften. Louis offered him a small smile and said looking at them both, "Alright guys. Both Zayn and Luke are no longer up for discussion tonight, okay? I don't enjoy seeing my best friend cry. Let's talk about something else. Let's call up Liam and Candice and put them on speaker. Good old Liam's making dinner for her right now at his place. First date. Adorable really... Let's annoy them." 


	27. Chapter 27

It was a mere day after dinner at Louis' when the  **first**  thing happened. Niall and Luke had just had slow languid bedtime sex and were lying on top of the covers dozing off.

Luke reached for him to pull him into a snuggly embrace. And Niall sort of wanted to push him away... the two of them were hot and sticky and Niall did not feel like cuddling. But he settled into Luke's arms without grumbling.

And then Luke said it. "I think I'm falling so hard for you, Niall."

Niall froze. He couldn't move. Instead of feeling happy at those words like any other normal person, he felt more like somebody had just slapped him across the face.

Luke kissed him on the cheek and murmured, "Are you really not gonna say anything?"

Yes, he was going to say something. He knew without a shred of doubt that he couldn't keep doing this. Things were going to get messy real fast. He sat up and turned the bedside lamp on. His heart pounding sickly in his chest, he whispered, "We have to break up, Luke."

"Wait. What?" Luke sat up too.

Niall swallowed and it felt like he was trying to get an entire pigeon past his throat. "We can't do this anymore. I'm breaking up with you." His heart broke a little at the stunned pinched look on Luke's face.

Luke shook his head as if to clear it and said haltingly, "Did I... freak you out by saying I'm falling in love with you? I wasn't trying to put any pressure on you..." He reached for Niall's hands and clutched them to his chest. "Forget I said anything. We don't have to rush this."

Looking into his sad confused eyes, Niall realised that he needed to be completely honest in order for Luke to get it. "I'm not breaking up with you because you said that. But you saying it did make me realise what a selfish jerk I'm being. Luke, I like you and you're a great boyfriend. But you honestly deserve someone better than me. I - I don't love you." Niall gulped. "And I don't think that's gonna change anytime soon. You deserve someone who loves you."

There was a long pause. "This is about Zayn, right?" Luke's question came out tight and hurt and bitter.

But it really wasn't about Zayn and Niall wanted Luke to genuinely know that. "It's not about him. It's about how I feel about you and how you feel about me. I'm not doing this so I can go be with Zayn. Even if I'd never met Zayn, it wouldn't make a difference I don't think. I won't make you happy and you won't make me happy. And without that, what's the point of staying together?" Niall realised that he sounded a lot like Harry. "Luke, be honest, are you happy with me?

Luke hesitated for a moment. "I'm happy that I'm your boyfriend," he finally said.

"No but are you  _happy_ with me? Do I make you happy?"

Another hesitant pause, this time longer. Then a curt, "No... But only because I always knew this day was coming. I could never fully relax with you and just enjoy everything, because I knew that you always had one eye on the exit. Always."

"I'm so sorry." Fuck, he knew that his apology wasn't nearly good enough to make up for anything but it was all he had to offer.

"Well." Luke shrugged and settled back down on the bed, his eyes shut tight. "You said you were gonna try to make it work and I suppose you did. Can't force you to feel what you don't."

They sat there in silence. Until Luke turned onto his side with his back to Niall and said softly, "Can you leave? You should call a cab if you don't want to drive. But. You need to go."  

Niall blinked towards Luke, a little stunned. It was 1 o'clock in the morning, he lived many miles away from their current location and he was being kicked out. But he knew he deserved it. He nodded even though Luke couldn't see him. Tears welled up in his eyes as he awkwardly put his clothes back on.

Before he walked out of Luke's bedroom, Niall told him sincerely, "I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me. You're a great guy and I don't regret meeting you and being with you, but I do regret letting things get this far. Because now I've hurt you. I'm really sorry, Luke."

Unsurprisingly, there wasn't an answer. Niall slipped out of the room.

 

................................

 

Then the  **second**  thing happened a couple of weeks later. And this one left Niall utterly stunned.

In the weeks after his and Luke's breakup, Niall spent the time resolutely avoiding any form of social interaction. He went to work, where he talked up a storm with Louis from time to time, but after work he went straight home like a schoolboy who'd been grounded by his parents. He needed the time to himself.

He spent his free time playing around on his guitar, something he'd neglected for way too long. He watched his favorite movies and tried to teach himself how to make Louis' lasagne (result = disastrous but hilarious). He called his mother every evening without fail just to chat - call him a big baby but talking to her made everything better. He even bought a few books to read, before giving up on that idea: he would never be the type of guy who read for fun.

He became a temporary recluse and it was exactly what he needed.

A few weeks of this though and he soon started to miss live human contact that didn't come in the form of obnoxious colleagues. (Louis and Candice were excluded from the obnoxious category of course... or actually, maybe just Candice.)

So on a Saturday afternoon, he drove over to his parents' house to pay them a visit. Maybe he happened to drive over at a time when he knew they'd be right in the middle of a delicious weekend lunch spread.

But when he arrived and got out of the car in his parent's driveway, Niall saw his mother standing in the doorway wiping what looked like tears away, looking so little and desolate there by herself. He rushed over to her, crossing the distance between them in seconds. "Mom? What's wrong? What happened? Where's Dad?" He was seriously panicking. No son ever wanted to see his mother cry.

She folded him into a hug and laughed wetly. "Hi, sweetheart. I'm fine. Sorry, I wasn't expecting you. I thought it would be okay to have a little cry out here on my own."

But that still didn't answer his questions. "What happened though? Why are you crying?" He took her wrist and led her the wide bench on the patio.

They sat down and she let out another shaky little laugh. "I'm crying because of you."

Niall was alarmed. "What did I do?" Whatever it was, he would fix it asap.

She smiled gently and shook her head. "I'm crying because of you. And him. Zayn was just by here this morning, he came to say goodbye... And it's such a shame. I love you both so much. I just want you happy and together."

 _Oh._ Niall sighed and leaned over to peck her cheek. "Mom. We've been through this. And I don't feel like getting into it again. So I'm not going to. But please don't cry... Why was he here anyway? Why would he come say goodbye today? We broke up like, a year and a half ago." Seriously, what the fuck.

His mother gave him an odd look, even as she brushed drying tears off her face. "Yes dear, you ended things a long time ago. But surely when you move to another continent it's not strange to come say goodbye to the people who were your second family for years?"

Wait, what. Niall wasn't following. "Another continent. Huh? What are you talking about?"

There was a horrible silence and then his mother looked like she wanted to cry again. "Oh dear... I- I'm sure he's planning on telling you... I can't understand why he didn't -"

"He's planning on telling me what? Where's he going?" Niall felt sick.

She looked down at her hands and shook her head, gulping.

"Mom? Mom!"

She looked up at him and the words tumbled out in an extremely sympathetic rush, "Paris. He's moving to Paris. His flight is tomorrow. I really thought you knew."

Niall was going to be sick. Violently sick. This didn't make sense. Why wouldn't Zayn tell him about this? He numbly registered his mother standing up and telling him softly, "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. Maybe give him a call", before she hugged him tight and walked into the house, blowing her nose noisily along the way.

How long he sat there trying to think of a logical explanation for all of this, he honestly didn't know. Eventually he pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Zayn's number. He had to call him four fucking times before Zayn finally picked up.

"Niall. There better be an emergency." It was said softly, almost admonishingly.

"Is that what it takes these days for you to answer my calls? There has to be an emergency or else you won't speak to me?"

Zayn sounded a little mad when he responded but his voice was still mostly calm, unwavering. "You're the one who said you don't want to see me anymore. You went off to go be with someone else. And now, I'm suddenly supposed to take your calls? That's not how it works, Niall."

Niall knew that Zayn was right. But that didn't stop Niall's retort, "I know I said all that. But I didn't think it would mean you'd really never speak to me again!"

"What did you think it would mean? Was I supposed to hang around waiting for you to throw me a bone? Were you expecting me to hang around on the off chance that one day you'd feel like talking to me?"

"I- No," Niall said sadly as he realised what an idiot he was being.

 Zayn sighed and it sounded pained. "Look, I'm not being mean but I have a really busy day today. I have so many things to sort out. Can you just tell me what you called me for?"

There was Niall's opening. "Yeah, I heard you have a lot on your plate today. Seeing as you're moving to fucking Paris  _tomorrow_ and you didn't even bother to tell me. I had to hear it from my mother." Niall tried to make his words sound hard but all he sounded was so hurt.

Zayn sighed again. "Well. I didn't think you would care. Again, you said you didn't want to see me outside of work. And the work stuff is only because you have to do your job. So what difference does it make to you what city I'm living in? You can still do your job and be my attorney even if I'm in fucking Tokyo. Louis was gonna tell you at some point anyway, it's not like I'm disappearing."

Niall wasn't about to just accept that. "You're leaving the county tomorrow. And you were gonna leave without a word. I find that hard to stomach. I think I deserve at least a goodbye."

"And then where does it end? Where do we draw the line? If you ever get a new job, are you gonna call me up and tell me? When you get yourself a new boyfriend a month from now? Will you tell me? - Yeah that's right Niall, I know you broke up with your boyfriend. Something  _you_  neglected to tell me, interesting enough. I had to hear it from Harry."

Niall didn't think he was being fair. Far from it. "That's completely different. I was gonna tell you about Luke, I just took a few weeks out for myself to get my head straight! You can't compare the two. You're leaving! For good!"

"Yes, I am. So what? I'm trying my best here. I'm trying to move on, get over you. I can't do that here, I need a clean break. Paris seems as good a place as any to do that."

"So that's it?"

"Yes? I really don't understand what you want me to say."

Because he couldn't think of anything else to say, Niall asked, "Why is it a big fucking state secret anyway? Why didn't anybody tell me? I bet they all know." Harry. Louis. Liam. Those bastards.

Zayn sounded impatient, "It was a pretty sudden decision. I only agreed to the move a week ago. I told them not to say anything to you because I wanted to talk to you myself... But then the more I thought about it, the more I realised I don't owe you that. No offense. But I didn't get around to telling them that part. So I guess they're waiting for you to let them know that you know..."

Niall shook his head. "You're leaving... You're just gonna go... just like that," he said dumbly. He still couldn't believe it.

"I am, Niall. Look, if that's all, I really need to go. - Um, I wish you all the best."

Niall laughed but it was hard, not like his usual laugh. "You wish me all the best? Are you kidding me right now? After everything we've been through, you're brushing me off with 'I wish you the best?'"

Finally Zayn seemed to explode, which was maybe what Niall had wanted all along. He hated that calm cold exterior he'd been putting up. Zayn took a deep breath. And then. "What. The. Fuck. Do. You want from me?! You're the one who threw away everything over some guy and that didn't even last two weeks! Do you want me to beg you again? Beg you to be with me? I'm not going to do that! And I told you that I wouldn't!"

Niall yelled back with just as much fire, "You threw away everything first! You ruined the best thing that ever happened to either of us just because Miles made you listen to some bogus recording of me talking about my professor, about school. You did that!"

Zayn sounded defeated and tired when he spoke again. "And that's the problem right there. You  _know_ I'm sorry for that. You  _know_ that I would never do anything like that to you again, deep down inside you know it. And you know how I feel about you. But you won't forgive me because you're stubborn and you always need to have the fucking upperhand. I'm not gonna apologize again. I've apologized over and over, in every way I can think of. If you can't forgive me, if you refuse to forgive me... What do you want from me?"

"I - I don't know, okay! But I don't want you to go!" There. Niall had finally said it.

"What's here for me exactly if I don't go, if I stay?"

Niall was silent, his teeth digging into his bottom lip.

There was one last sigh from Zayn. "I'm going, Niall. I truly wish you all the best, I wasn't just saying that. I mean it. Take care of yourself."

And he was gone.


	28. Chapter 28

They'd talked about Paris. Years ago. Niall knew how much Zayn loved Paris.

When they'd talked about it, Zayn had been in love with the  _idea_  of Paris because he'd never even left the country or travelled very far back then. He'd always talked about how he imagined it to be a place where people immersed themselves in art, music, food, love. They'd talked about going there together, maybe spending some time in Italy and Greece too. A year at the very least, just the two of them... they'd made vague but wonderful plans: Zayn would model of course and Niall could tutor law students (he wouldn't be able to actually practice law in Europe without taking all the necessary European exams, but thanks to his mother's insistence on private lessons while he was growing up, his French and Italian were impeccable.) The foreign legal experience, albeit from a tutoring perspective, would look great on his resume. They'd talked about it a lot.

About how they would do it just to be able to look back one day and say they'd done something simply because they'd wanted to. They had blissfully assumed that years into the future when they did look back on their lives, they'd be looking together.

 And that was the thing. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Niall couldn't make sense of any of this.

Zayn wasn't supposed to be going to Paris  _alone._ They'd never once talked about that.

The thought of Zayn so far away, potentially forever, filled Niall with a real sense of panic, the kind where your heartbeat speeds up to a level that is frighteningly fast, your mouth goes dry and worst of all you  _cannot fucking breathe_ because the hurt and sense of betrayal filling your chest are too much for the little space in your lungs. He was currently pacing the immaculate tiles in his mother's kitchen, pacing and taking in long slow dragging breaths of air because doing that acted as a small distraction against the strong urge to call Zayn back and beg him not to go.

A little sheepishly he took his phone from where he'd "hid" it from himself on top of the fridge. He stared at Zayn's name in the recent calls list. His thumb thought better of it and moved down the list. He pressed "Tommo" and brought the phone up to his ear.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me? What kind of friend are you? You were just gonna let him leave without me knowing?" This was the first thing Niall barked out as soon as Louis picked up.

Much to Niall's mounting irritation, without skipping a beat Louis answered calmly, "He wasn't gonna go without saying goodbye. I was starting to get a little worried there for a while because he was taking so long. But I knew he would tell you."

"Well, just goes to show you don't know shit! Because he did  _not_  tell me. My mother was the only person in my life who thought I might find that little piece of information useful." His mother who was currently in the next room, so Niall made sure to speak in a quiet tight hiss.

Louis seemed only slightly surprised. "Okay. But still. He was going to tell you. Maybe he doesn't think so and maybe you don't think so, but there's no way he would get onto a plane to another country without speaking to you. I don't know him all that well but Harry does. Maybe he would've stayed up all night talking himself out of it just to end up calling you only 5 minutes before boarding, but he was gonna call you. Eventually. It seemed important to him to tell you himself." Louis sounded so sure but that did nothing to appease the heaps and bounds of angry indignation that Niall felt building and rising.

"A heads up would've been nice, don't you think. A simple 'hey buddy, the person you loved and spent years of your life with is about to go permanently reside in fucking Europe by the end of this week'! "

"Would you have stopped him from going? Or told him how you feel?"

Niall sputtered out more waves of indignation. "Wha - I don't know and that's beside the point. As my friend you're supposed to have  _my_ back and tell me things like that."

Louis sounded indignant right back. "I am your friend. You're my best friend and I do have your back. But if you weren't gonna stop him, the only thing my telling you would've done was make Zayn mad at me for breaking his trust. But even with all that, if I honestly believed he was really seriously gonna go without saying anything to you, I would've told you. He loves you. A lot from what I can see. And he's in pain right now and his pride is a little wounded. But he would never just leave. Or so says Harry. And I believe him."

There was silence as Niall's anger dissipated as quickly as it had come, replaced by the more pressing feeling of  _panic_ again.

Louis broke the silence first. "I'm sorry, I know this must be hard for you. I was talking to Liam right now before you called and we want so much to help, but what can we do? In a way it's hard for all of us, not in the same as it for you of course, but he's our friend too. Shit, like, Harry's not dealing with this very well. That's his best friend, the only real constant presence in his life, and now he's leaving. I'm helping him through it and letting him know that he still has someone who's not going anywhere. But it's hard... I want to help you and Zayn too but I don't know how anymore. What are you gonna do Niall, now that you know?"

 _I'm gonna ask him to stay. I'll tell him that I haven't quite figured out how we're gonna do this, but I want him to stay. I need him to stay_.  _I need him. Jesus Christ, I really do. I need him._

_I can't tell him any of that._

 

"I don't know, Louis." He didn't know and he wasn't prepared for this. He'd never thought that he'd be given one day to work through everything he'd been trying so hard to overcome these past few weeks after breaking up with Luke. There was one thing Zayn had been wrong about - Niall wasn't staying away out of mere stubbornness or out of a need to maintain the upperhand. It was as simple as many others had already guessed, he was scared. And untrusting and jaded because of everything love had already taught him. He didn't want to be, it made him feel like a coward. But he was and he didn't know how not to be. And he'd been trying really hard to get over that fear lately, thinking that he still had time.

There was no time.

....................................

 

So Niall let Zayn go. Told himself that maybe it was for the best. Because whenever Niall had tried with someone in the past , it had never ended well.

The Sunday morning on the day of Zayn's flight, Niall woke up horribly ill for no apparent reason, his stomach twisting and turning and bile rising and coating his throat until he gave in and ran to the bathroom to puke his insides out. And when he thought about who'd dotingly taken care of him the last time he'd been sick like this, his eyes watered and his stomach cramped and he hurled again.

He hadn't even eaten much the day before. There was no reason for him to be sick. It was like his entire body was rejecting this day.

It felt so wrong that this was happening and every fibre of Niall's being was telling him so.

He crawled back into bed for the rest of the day and without even meaning to, counted down the hours until Zayn's flight. Louis had told him it was a noon flight, and Niall had gotten the distinct feeling that Lou wanted him to show up at the airport and loudly declare his feelings while the rest of the waiting passengers and their families cheered him on. 

Niall stayed in bed. He barely moved, his eyes numbly locked on the clock. Thirty minutes before the flight, Niall received a text. And before he even opened it he knew with absolute certainty who it was from.

It was one short text. Not even a full sentence. But it was enough to make Niall turn his face into the pillow and raggedly weep. He'd been holding back the tears all day but he couldn't anymore.

 

_The first time ever I saw your face._

Those few words which didn't appear to say much, actually said everything. They said everything and nobody besides the two of them would understand why. Zayn used to sometimes sing this song to him in a low silken voice when Niall was sick, a hand stroking Niall's hair and lulling him to sleep. But.

The first time he sang it though, was on a night two and a half months into their relationship, the night they both said  _I love you_  for the first time. The evening had started off a lot more animalistic than it ended. They'd just had hot desperately needy sex, first in the backseat of Niall's car and then they'd moved things to the more civilized space that was Niall's bachelor pad for round two. Afterwards, Zayn suddenly startled in bed (he'd been drifting off to sleep) and said, "Hey, I heard this song when I was working at the restaurant yesterday. And it was weird because I think it was basically taken from my head and written about you. I think I still remember how it went. Wanna hear?"

So obviously Niall had nodded very eagerly, a little indulgently. Having a boyfriend who was always singing you cute little random tidbits in bed definitely had its perks.

 

_The first time ever I saw your face_

_I thought the sun rose in your eyes_

_And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave_

_To the dark and the endless sky, my love_

_The first time ever I lay with you_

_I felt your heart so close to mine_

When Zayn was done singing the little bits he remembered, Niall had looked back into his drowsy eyes and suddenly felt so very sure. "I love you." He said back the words he knew Zayn was trying to convey to him with the song.

So because they'd always understood each other perfectly, Niall knew what Zayn was trying to say with this short text. He was saying those three little words one last time. Saying them for the last time, the exact same way he'd said them the very first time.

It all hurt so much. With shaky hands, Niall typed back the words in the song that had always spoken to him the most.

He sent them to the man who was probably boarding a plane right that very moment, right out of his life.

 

_And I knew our love would fill this earth and last till the end of time._

It all felt so final. Horribly heart-breakingly final.

.....................................

 

Niall was no stranger to the emotional turmoil inside himself that followed after Zayn left. After all, he'd been through it all the first time everything happened between the two of them. What made it harder this time around was that he didn't have the overwhelming anger and bitterness to distract himself from the constant sadness that was much harder to face.

He missed him deeply. He hadn't even realised the full extent to which he'd gotten used to having Zayn back in his life again.

He did his best to get on with things but it didn't help that Zayn was everywhere. His face was plastered all over town, in the magazines at Niall's doctor's office and his commercials were on TV what seemed like all the time. Niall couldn't escape him and in a way, he didn't want to. It hurt to have to look at that lovely face while he tried to move on with his life, but at least he was getting to look at that face. In some twisted way, it was better than nothing.

They didn't talk anymore at all. Niall still acted as his lawyer, but he only ever heard from Liam. Sometimes Zayn would be cc'd in the emails exchanged between Niall and Liam, and seeing his name there never failed to unnerve Niall. Sometimes he considered dropping him a line or two, just to see how he was. But what would that accomplish? He didn't think Zayn would appreciate the intrusion.

But because Niall was still friends with Harry and Liam, he heard things about what Zayn was up to. Even Louis was in contact with Zayn occasionally, so sometimes Niall would overhear things from him too.

Niall would then greedily store and treasure every little piece of information mentioned in passing over the months. It was all he had.

_Zayn bought an apartment in Neuilly-sur-Seine last week._

_He said it's really cold right now but the food's great._

 

_He wants a puppy. I asked him who the hell is gonna take care of it when he's gone half the time. I think he's gonna get one anyway._

_Zayn's in Milan this week. That lucky motherfucker. Here I am slaving over old cases._

_He sounded okay. I think he's a little homesick though. He misses his Mom and Saf especially._

  
_Apparently he went on a date with some singer named Francois last night._ (Niall suddenly got the urge to be sick all over Louis' wonderful Sunday roast lunch, as he listened in on the conversation between Liam and Harry one day.)  _I think it was a bust though. He didn't sound too enthused._

_He's taking French lessons at some language school in the mornings. He's getting pretty good too. Well he said some shit to me and I didn't understand it but it sounded pretty good._

  
_He goes to the Louvre every chance he gets. I told him to stop being such a fucking tourist. Surely you can only look at the same paintings for so long before that shit gets old._ (”Every time he looks at a painting again he finds something new in it that he never noticed before”, Niall wanted to tell Louis who was fondly ranting on the phone to Harry.)

 

Niall missed him. So much so that sometimes he'd wake up in the middle of the night with hot tears trailing down his face, the whisper of some sad dream about him receding to the edges of his memory.

He wondered if Zayn still missed him too. At all. It didn't look like Zayn ever asked their friends how Niall was doing. The goal behind moving to Paris had been to move on with his life and it would appear that goal was being accomplished, if not already accomplished.

Something Zayn had said to him in an email before he'd left kept replaying in Niall's mind -  _sometimes things just don't work out, no matter how much you want them to._

Yeah.

 

So Niall threw himself into his work, becoming even more of a workaholic than before. He couldn't control the other messy aspects of his life, but this he could control. He could work on his goal of making partner by making himself indispensable and valuable to the firm.

He got to work annoyingly early in the morning (annoying according to Louis) and he left sadly late (sad according to Candice). And the bosses started to notice. All of the sudden, he was getting invited to offer his input on the biggest cases. Even better, nobody scoffed or rolled their eyes when that input was given. He spent his time reading a lot, doing case research, constantly refining what he knew and challenging what he thought he knew. He nearly fainted when one of the partners, Saul Sandsman, told him in passing in the men's room one day that if Niall kept up the good work he was well on his way to acquiring the type of characteristics and skills the firm valued in their partners.

Did any of it make Niall happy? Well, no, if you wanted to get technical about it. But it made him feel necessary, like he was accomplishing something. It was no small feat to finally feel like you were accomplishing all your professional dreams. And for now, happiness aside, that feeling of accomplishment would have to do.

He didn't even try to date. Some well-meaning acquaintances and family members kept trying to set him up with all kinds of people, but he always declined as politely as he could. He didn't have any desire to try to find someone he might actually like. He had sex from time to time, but that didn't happen often because his head just wasn't into it. In the back of his mind, he hoped that one day, far away, he would find someone he liked. Nobody wants to die alone.

His friends were great and they made sure to include him in all their parties and lunches and movie nights. They made sure that he didn't spend every weekend at work like he often wanted to. But they were all coupled up, Liam with Candice, Harry with Louis, so he often opted out because lately there was nothing he couldn't stomach less than cute couples. No offense to them.

Candice left the firm, left the job she hated, left the father who constantly demeaned her. Liam helped her get an entry-level events planning job at Portfolio Inc which was much better suited to her interests and skills. She loved it and was finally happy, although she hardly ever spoke to her father anymore. His friends were all happy. And while he was genuinely glad for them, sometimes it was a little painful to witness. He wondered when he would be happy again too.

Laying wide awake most nights with nothing but insomnia and hot searing memories of nights long in the past to keep him company, meant that he became extremely reaccustomed with his hand. And hard as he tried to imagine other people, there was only one person who really did it for him and eventually he stopped fighting it and let his memories run wild, coming hard all over himself night after night as he thought about him.

......................................

 

Unexpected things are always, well, unexpected. But it's sometimes truly frightening how unexpected they are. 

Something unexpected happened about five months after Zayn had left for Paris. And it had nothing to do with Zayn. Or even Niall.

It happened on a Tuesday morning that started off like any other morning. Niall got to work early, Louis arrived only a little later. They shared Louis' Snicker bar and ignored their work for a bit in favour of a chat about nothing in particular.

But the normalcy all changed at around 9h30 when almost  _every_ partner and senior associate came rushing past Niall and Louis' desks speaking in low grave tones, their faces appearing quite ashen when Niall looked at them closely. They seemed to be on their way to the boardroom around the corner for a meeting.

Niall looked questioningly at Louis but his friend just shrugged, clearly as clueless as him.

He didn't think much more of it until the partners and associates emerged from the boardroom 20 minutes later. Mr Sandsman led the procession who all stopped in the middle of the office. He called for everybody's attention, gravely stating that he had an announcement.

Niall didn't like the sound of this. It was something really bad, he could tell.

"We had a bit of shocking news this morning," Mr Sandsman began. He paused for way too long, appearing very jarred and unsettled. "We lost one of our own today. James Hewlett passed in a car accident on his way to work this morning. A little over an hour ago."

Louis and Niall turned to each other with round horrified eyes. Candice's father.

Mr Sandsman was still talking, his voice wavering slightly. He and James had know each other for over 35 years, since law school, Niall remembered Candice telling him that once. "James' vehicle was hit by a truck at an intersection. It was bad... They -- they could barely get him out and he was gone before they got him to the hospital."

Mr Sandsman's composure slipped for a split second where his face almost seemed to crumble but a second later his face was grave again. With a curt nod, he walked towards the elevators and a few associates who'd been in the meeting followed him. Somewhere in his bleary mind, Niall figured that they were on their way to the hospital or to visit the family.

Niall turned to Louis again, but he had his phone pressed to his hear. Louis mouthed, "Liam." A few seconds later, he shook his head and put the phone down. "It just rings, he's not picking up. I think he's with her."

They stared at each other then, their eyes still wide. And even though Mr Hewlett hadn't been Niall's favorite person, there was an unmistakeable ache in his throat right then. The man was gone. He'd woken up that morning, gotten dressed, drank his coffee, kissed his wife goodbye and walked out the door. Never for a second thinking that his life's clock was rapidly ticking down with mere minutes left.

 

It was terrifying and tragic to think about.

 

"Should I try Candice?" Louis asked.

 

Niall shook his head. "Not right now."

 

"We can't just sit here. Let's get to the hospital. We'll find them there and even if she doesn't want to see anybody yet, I don't know, maybe just knowing that we're there will comfort her in some way."

 

So that's what they did. They got into Louis' car and drove to Esther Canton Memorial Hospital. The scene awaiting them there... a hysterical inconsolable Candice, and Liam who looked close to tears himself but was trying to keep it together for his girlfriend's sake.

 

Niall was deeply shaken by Mr Hewlett's death. After leaving the hospital later that afternoon with Louis, both of them feeling utterly drained emotionally, Niall climbed into bed fully clothed and he finally shed a few tears for the man who'd been a fair and decent boss to him.

 

It was a shame that he hadn't extended that decency to his own daughter in the workplace. Niall wondered whether she would ever be able to get over this. At the hospital she'd been crying so hard that her words were almost intelligble, her pretty face heartbreakingly marred by an indescribable inner pain. It had been hard to understand everything she said but Niall could make out that she wouldn't ever forgive herself because he died with them not having spoken in months. He died and the last thing she ever said to him was that he was the worst father in the world and that she wouldn't wish a judgemental hurtful parent like him on her worst enemy.

 

Niall could easily sympathize - he hadn't spoken to his parents for months after they'd taken away his trust fund and cut him off. Now, he imagined how horrible he would have felt for the rest of his life if something had happened to them during that time. In fact, horrible didn't even describe how he would feel. He was so terribly sad for his friend and he hoped that she'd find some solace in whatever happy memories she and her Dad had shared.

 

The only thing Niall wanted to do as he lay in bed thinking about everything that had happened at the hospital (the only thing besides speak to his own parents and tell them how much he loved them) was to call Zayn and make sure that he was in one piece, remind him to always drive safely and look where he was going when he crossed the street, all of the stuff that they mostly took for granted. But he didn't even have his phone number.

 

It occurred to him how incredibly short life was, how fleeting everybody's time on this earth was and how stupid it was that so many people wasted their lives away worrying about things that didn't matter, stuck in jobs they hated, with people they hated even more. What was the point when everyday could potentially be your last? And he knew, people said it all the time - "live every day as though it's your last". It wasn't exactly a new concept. But Niall had never actually appreciated how true it was that there wasn't any point in living if you weren't going to actually  _live._ If you weren't going to love. The two things were one and the same, he knew it with sudden startling clarity.


	29. Chapter 29

He knew what he wanted. And it was so simple. It was quite beautiful how simple it was, how uncomplicated things became when he asked himself the only question that mattered - what did he need to do if he wanted to be happy again? 

The answer was that he needed Zayn, he wanted Zayn. The ache of missing him was constant and he wanted to be with him. Simple, when you looked at it that way. For the first time since Zayn had left, Niall stopped thinking of reasons why it might be smarter to keep denying himself what every single cell in his body told him was right. And it wasn't like those reasons were suddenly no longer there. It wasn't that everything wrong in the past was miraculously erased. It was more about Niall considering that sometimes it's worth it to take a chance. Sometimes  _somebody_  is worth it.

Despite the somber unsettling day he'd had at the hospital, Niall felt fired up, a pleasant hum spreading through his entire body and making him feel more alive and aware than he'd felt in months. He didn't want another day to go by without being able to speak to Zayn face to face. Niall wanted to see him  _right. now_.

He wanted to have him be in the same room and he wanted to tell him everything he'd been feeling these past few months, without even worrying about what Zayn might say back. He had no way of knowing what kind of frame of mind Zayn was in, whether he still felt the same way, or whether he would kindly tell Niall to piss off. Maybe Zayn had moved on. It had been five months since he'd left and a lot could happen in five months. But Niall still wanted to tell him.

Except he couldn't tell him right now. Because the bastard was thousands of miles away across the ocean. 3 669 miles away to be exact. (Not that Niall had looked it up the day Zayn left or anything.)

Niall was deflated for about three seconds before the simple solution occurred to him.

He was going to have to go to Paris.

 

...................................

 

Easier said than done. The people around Niall were unfortunately not caught up in the same wave of  _carpe diem, seize the day, live your life_ as him. For starters, his bosses at work the next day were not particularly enthusiastic when Niall requested a two day leave of absence which would free up his time from Thursday.

According to them, there was too much work that needed to be done, particularly with Mr Hewlett's death. "All hands on deck" was evidently the bosses' motto this week. And to be fair, Niall could see where they were coming from - he had mountains of research to complete in prepartion for a big case against a film production company and he was meant to accompany Mr Pringle, one of the partners, to court on Friday for said-case. There was work to be done and just because he was currently being consumed by a burning need to see Zayn and maybe just  _look_ at him for a while... that didn't mean he could neglect his work.

"Yes, you are," was what Louis said in a straight matter-of-fact tone when Niall told him he wouldn't be going to Paris after all. Niall had just come back from Mr Pringle's office, where he'd been told how much work was expected of him this week.

"I can't go. Fuck, this sucks. I'm gonna have my head buried in books and papers until, like, midnight every night for the rest of this week. There's so much to do and I was supposed to get through a lot of it yesterday. But then everything happened with Mr Hewlett..."

Louis smiled bright. "It's a good thing your best friend's a lawyer who can do all that for you, wouldn't you say?"

Niall stared at him. "What. There's  _a lot_  to do. Not just the piles of reading. I also need to interview some professors of film studies to find the right one to use as an expert witness in our case. Basically Mr Pringle wants one whose research can back up exactly what we'll be arguing and that's proving to be difficult... It's too much work to do. I know you have your own case to prepare for."

"I can handle it." Louis shrugged. He stood up and came to sit on the edge of Niall's desk. "I'll ask one of the paralegals to help me if I get too swamped. It's just two days. You can get as much done as you can today and I'll take care of the rest. You've been working your ass off for months, like a man possessed. None of the bosses will hold it against you if you take a couple of days off, if that's what you're worried about. Well, they won't hold it against you as long as it doesn't affect the firm's output. Which it won't because the work will get done. Go talk to them again and say you'll make sure everything gets done. Look, there's no way you're not going to Paris. Not on my watch, buddy."

Niall didn't need further convincing. He smiled. "I'm going to Paris."

"You're going to Paris."

"I'm gonna see Zayn." The smile became a little dopey.

"Yeah, that's the idea," Louis said indulgently. "Now would probably be a good time to book your flight."

Oh yeah, logistics. He wouldn't be carried to Paris on bird's wings. "I'll do that right now. And I need to find a hotel."

Louis scoffed. "Why do you need to book a hotel room? You already have a place to stay."

Niall had a ready answer for him because he'd actually thought about this in bed the night before. "I have no idea what kind of reception is waiting for me in Paris, icy or welcoming. I have no idea where this is going or what's gonna end up happening. I'm just going there to talk to him. So no, I don't think it would be wise for me to turn up on his doorstep carrying a suitcase, expecting to share his bed. I definitely need a hotel room."

Louis nodded concedingly. "Okay, fair enough. But just because I like to keep things interesting, I wanna bet you 50 bucks you won't be spending even one night in your hotel room."

"You're on." Niall laughed and shook his head. Louis obviously didn't know him very well - if Niall was going to be paying for a hotel room, he would damn well make sure he used that hotel room. He was grateful to be in a position where he could afford this trip at all on such short notice, so he had no intention of wasting his hard-earned money.

Niall ignored Louis' heavy insinuations that he was fully expecting Niall and Zayn to be fucking every day while Niall was over there. Niall of course did not mention that he imagined that very thing all the time, Zayn fucking into him all night long. Niall definitely did not mention this.

Instead he asked, "Should I tell him I'm coming? I should, right? I can't just arrive in Paris completely unannounced."

"I think you should surprise him."

"Yeah?" Niall sounded just as dubious as he felt. He didn't know if a surprise visit would be well-received.

"Definitely. But we need to make sure he's actually there for you to surprise, can't have him making any plans this week..." Louis' face brightened. "What if we tell him Harry's sending a very special delivery his way tomorrow and he needs to be at the apartment to personally sign for it? His birthday's in a week, I think he'll buy it."

Not bad. Not bad at all. "Okay. Get Harry to tell him that."

Maybe this entire thing was a terrible idea from start to finish, Niall thought to himself. Too late, he was doing it anyway.

......................................

 

So that was how he found himself in a plane that had just departed JFK International Airport and was on its way to Charles de Gaulle Airport. Harry had written Zayn's address down for Niall. He'd written it down on three different pieces of paper actually. One piece was currently in Niall's pocket, one was in his small suitcase and the other was in his overnight bag. Harry was apparently taking no chances.

The 7 hour flight to Paris went by really quickly, maybe too quickly. (Time tended to do that when you were nervous as fuck about what was waiting for you on the other side.)

In what seemed like no time at all he was hauling his suitcase out of Arrivals and into one of the many parked taxis outside. He'd booked a room at the Hotel Ducs du Bourgogne in the suburb of Saint-Denis which apparently wasn't too far from Zayn's apartment.

Niall cheerfully fired off the name of the hotel to his driver and soon enough they were making their way through the long snow-covered streets of Paris, talking a mile a minute about the weather and the best restaurants in the city. (He silently and a little begrudgingly thanked his mother for dragging him to private French lessons as a kid. She'd insisted they would come in handy in the future.)

He was checked into his hotel room and unpacked half an hour later. The room was nice, nothing fancy, but it would do. He peaked outside the window and delightedly people-watched for a few minutes. He was in fucking  _Paris._ No matter what the reason was for him being there, just being in the city was a cause for celebration in itself.

It was going just after 6 o'clock in the evening and he briefly considered venturing outside and exploring for a bit. But the truth was, he only considered it as a means of stalling. Now that he was actually here in the same city as Zayn, much of his fiery bravado had dissipated and all that was left was his churning stomach. He had travelled thousands of miles to see an ex-boyfriend who definitely wasn't expecting him, an ex-boyfriend who maybe had cancelled a date or something because he'd been told that his best friend was sending him an important package that day.

Not for the first time, Niall asked himself what the fuck he was doing. This was insane. He needed to drive back to the airport and go home because him being here was crazy.

He took the piece of paper with Zayn's address out of his pocket and stared at it for a bit, as if willing it to give him some answers and make sense of things. But, it was after all just a piece of paper. But then a thought dawned on him as he stared at the street name and suburb - Zayn was  _there._ It was as if it hadn't occurred to him before - Zayn was right there at that address at this very second, only a few minutes away, maybe cooking dinner or laughing at something he was reading in a book. He was right there for the first time in months. And it was the best, most wonderfully terrifying feeling in the world.

Zayn was there. And Niall wasn't about to chicken out now.

Before he could change his mind again, he dialed reception and asked them to have a taxi for him in 15 minutes. He thereafter proceeded to vigorously brush his teeth as though he was an actor about to go into his first kissing scene. Then he changed his top three times before finally settling on a soft grey sweater to go with his dark jeans and sneakers. Then he say perched on the edge of his bed motionlessly until 15 minutes were up.

He made his way downstairs to the hotel's ground floor and was pointed to his waiting taxi.  _No backing out now,_  he thought as he slid into the back seat. He handed Harry's piece of paper to the burly driver who nodded and started the car.

Niall wondered how much he'd be made to pay if he puked all over the backseat. Probably a lot. So he figured it would be best to hold it in. The drive was only five minutes. Not nearly enough time for Niall to calm himself down. Fuck, he wasn't ready for this. Nonetheless he paid the driver the fare and got out, taking a few moments to look around. Before him stood an immaculate low-rise building of luxury apartments and behind him was the River Seine. Quite the view.

He was pleased to find that security was not as ridiculous as Zayn's old apartment in Jersey. He only had to show his passport at reception and announce that he was here to um, deliver a package to Zayn Malik. The security guard then pointed him to the elevators and thereafter he was on his own. There were four floors in the building and Zayn's apartment was on the third. With slightly sweaty palms, Niall pressed "3" once he was inside the elevator.

A few seconds later, the doors pinged open to the third floor. Shit. Shit shit shit. He walked out and wiped his palms on his jeans.

Apartment 304. The final destination. He stood in front of the door and stared at it for a full minute. He prayed that none of the neighbors would come out because he was fully aware that he looked like a total creeper just standing there. He took a deep breath. He knocked once, twice.

"Coming! Un moment s'il vous plait!"

That voice. It was him. Niall stopped breathing for a second. A moment later just as the voice had promised, the door opened and suddenly there he was. Barefoot, dressed in sweatpants and an oversized red hoodie, a barely audible gasp escaping past his throat when his eyes fell on Niall.

Niall honest-to-God felt his heart squeeze at the sight of him. Which didn't help the not breathing thing. He looked even more heart-breakingly  _perfect_ than Niall remembered, even with the faint shadows under his eyes that never used to be there.

Niall had no idea what his own expression looked like but Zayn looked like he simply couldn't believe the sight before him. He stood frozen, his hand still on the door and Niall could swear he saw that hand shake just a little.

Neither of them were saying anything. So Niall decided to change that. He tried to smile but it felt a little watery even to himself. He said softly, "Surprise."

Zayn continued to look at him with slightly wide unblinking eyes.

Niall shuffled his feet awkwardly and looked down at the floor, wondering if Zayn was even going to let him in. He looked up when he heard Zayn hesitantly speak. "I don't understand... Niall, what are you doing here?" There was no malice in the question.

Niall swallowed. "I came to talk to you."

"You came to talk to me... Are you in town on business?" Zayn asked slowly and his eyes looked a little wary. Niall shook his head.

Zayn stared at him for a second further before standing back and opening the door fully. "You gonna come in?" His eyes were locked on Niall's and those eyes still looked like they were searching for some hidden motive or booby trap in all this.

Niall followed him inside the apartment and took a quick peak around the living room - taking in a tastefully decorated space, wide soft-looking couches, bright paintings on all the walls. Very Zayn, Niall decided before turning his attention back to Zayn himself. Zayn who was standing directly in front of him, seemingly just taking the sight of Niall in.

"Hi," Niall said.

A pause from Zayn and then, "Hi."

"How are you?"

"Um.." Zayn just stared at him.

"You're wondering what I'm doing here." Niall knew that he was stating the obvious. But seeing Zayn after so long left him a little flustered and very nervous, and he needed a moment to gather his thoughts. Niall took a step closer to Zayn, wondering if maybe they should sit down for this and then deciding against it. "I came to talk to you. I needed to see you."

Zayn's face gave nothing away, his expression carefully bland.

So Niall soldiered on, "A lot happened this week. Candice's Dad. I'm sure Harry told you. Anyway, she lost her father and it's tragic because there are so many regrets there and things she wishes she'd done different. It made me realise I never want that to happen to me, not if I can help it. I never want to have regrets."

Zayn gently folded his arms across his chest, a defense mechanism that Niall easily recognized. "Okay... so you're here because of regrets. You regret the way things ended before I left? Do you feel bad for me or something? You feel sorry for me so you came all the way here?" It was asked quietly.

"I don't feel sorry for you." Niall almost laughed because Zayn was so far off from the truth. "That's not it. I came to tell you something but before I say it, I want you to know I don't expect anything in return. I just need for you to know."

"You need for me to know," Zayn repeated slowly, uncertainly.

Niall took a deep breath and said, "This is the scariest thing I've ever done. Hands down. Because for the first time in a really long time, I can't read you right now.  I have no clue what's going on in your head and I wish I did. It would make this a lot easier... But, I'm just gonna say it. The truth is... I came all the way here because after everything that happened this week, I couldn't stop thinking about how much it would fuck me up for life if anything were to ever happen to you. And also how much I would regret not having told you how I feel."

Zayn cocked an eyebrow. Good sign? Bad sign? Who knew. Zayn asked, "How do you feel?"

 _I feel like I'm standing naked in front of a huge crowd, about to bare my entire soul._ Niall gulped. "I feel like... I feel like these past few months I've missed you more than I thought was humanly possible. And even though I'm kind of really scared right now, I also feel so happy to just see you. And that's a huge deal, to me at least. I - I haven't been happy in a long time. But I'm happy right now."

Zayn smiled at that and it lit up his whole face. And Niall wanted to cry because fuck if that wasn't the most beautiful thing he'd seen in months. Zayn asked, "You're happy to see me?"

"Very happy," Niall confirmed.

Zayn's smile grew but then faltered somewhat midway. "But.. you're also scared."

Niall almost wanted to tell him to just please smile again but instead he acknowledged, "Yeah, I'm scared. Because I don't know if I should even be here. But also because I can't keep pretending everything's fine the way it is. You're not in my life anymore. And I'm not okay with that. I'm really not okay with that." He felt the sting in his eyes and throat, and he told it to go away. He still had a lot to get through.

"What are you saying exactly? You miss having me in your life? You want us to be friends? I told you, I'm not-"

Niall shook his head and put a finger to Zayn's lips (a move he frequently rolled his eyes at when it was used in movies). But it seemed fitting in that moment because he needed to get these next words out before he lost his nerve and he didn't want Zayn interrupting. "I didn't come all the way here to ask you to be my friend... I came because - because I  _love you_ , okay. Trying to pretend I don't has just made me miserable. Zayn, I love you. And I guess I. I really just need you to know that. Even if you've moved on."

Zayn had visibly stilled. "You..." He didn't finish his sentence. The only movement that came from him was the sudden rapid rising and falling of his chest.

Just because he couldn't really help it, Niall pressed a soft feather-light kiss to one of Zayn's cheekbones, not really knowing whether he was still allowed to do this. Zayn's eyes fluttered shut. Better Niall do that now, before maybe finding out that Zayn would rather he not. "I realize that me being here is a little crazy. But I had to come. I don't know how else to explain it. Except to say that I needed to see you, long before just this week. You - you're the first thing I think about when I stop ignoring my alarm clock in the mornings. That's the biggest cliché in the world, I know, but it’s true. And you’re the last thing I think about when I go to bed. You are on my mind all the time. I worry about you. I wonder if you're feeling okay, I worry about whether you're happy. Sometimes I worry that you  _are_ happy. Without me, I mean."

"I'm not. Happy, I mean. Or at least I wasn't," Zayn said so quietly it was nearly a whisper.

Niall wasn't necessarily proud of himself but hearing Zayn say that gave Niall a little spark of hope in his chest. Because maybe it meant that Zayn hadn't moved on just yet. Niall didn't say anything for a few beats. He had so much to say but at the same time he was happy to allow himself some time to quietly stand there in that apartment living room and just be near Zayn like he hadn't been able to for these past months. This man was the love of Niall's life, it was a simple fact. It seemed silly to Niall now that he had tried to convince himself he could get over him.

Eventually Niall said, "I want you to be happy. And I want to be happy... For a long time after we broke up I was really mad at you, Zayn. It overclouded everything. There wasn't really room to feel anything else. And then when I stopped being so mad, I had to try and protect myself. Because I was starting to feel all those things for you again. I already knew from experience how much power you have to hurt me... I fell right back in love with you but I didn't know if I could trust you."

Zayn watched him for a few moments in silence. And then asked, "Is it possible to be ecstatic and completely devastated at the same time? Because I think that's what I feel right now. I mean on one hand, you're telling me you love me. Which is basically the only thing I've really wanted for so long. But on the other hand... You don't trust me. And loving me makes you cautious, scared... It's hard to find a positive in that," Zayn finished sadly. He looked as conflicted as he sounded.

In the past, this was the point where Niall would have agreed with him that there were few positives to be found. "Back home, I mean before you left, I was afraid of what might happen if I let my guard down again. And I let that fear control what I did. I dated someone else because what I felt for him was safe and easy. And I pushed you away. I let you leave. But I'm here right now because I'm tired of... feeling so sad without you. You remember how good and right we were together before everything got fucked up? I miss that. I miss you - God, I miss you so much, Zayn. I don't know where your head is at right now - I mean... Logic tells me you're probably seeing someone or someones even. And here I am, knocking on your door uninvited. But at least I'm getting to tell you how I feel."

All of this wasn't easy to explain and Niall just hoped some of it was making sense. Barely pausing, Niall got to the hardest part, "You hurt me back then, we both know that. But yesterday something occurred to me. Before, it was like in order to forgive you I was waiting for - fuck I dunno, some miraculous divine intervention that would erase all the Miles stuff and make it all okay again. I kept waiting for something that would make it completely safe for me to forgive you. But that's not gonna happen. Part of our past is really shitty and quite frankly what happened is inexcusable. There's nothing we can do to change that. So I made a choice this week. And what I decided - what I realized is that life is so so short. And I don't want to get to the end of mine one day and wish I'd done what I wanted instead of what I thought I should do." Niall's eyes searched Zayn's face, trying to determine how what he was saying was being received.

Zayn bowed his head for a moment, his eyes closed as he took a deep breath, seemingly trying to gather his thoughts. (At least that's what it looked like to Niall, based on how well he used to know him. And Niall was growing increasingly confident that he did still know him.)

The only sound in the room was the faint sound of the television news in the background. Niall waited, knowing that everything he'd just said was probably a lot for Zayn to take in. Zayn finally looked up and said, "I would never do anything like that to you ever again. You were talking about regrets just now - what happened back then is the single biggest regret of my life. I wish I could erase it but I can't, like you said. I can't promise you that if you give me another chance I won't ever do little dumb things on accident that'll make you mad sometimes. But I can promise I will never betray your trust. I won't let anyone or anything get in the way of what I know to be true about you. I will never give you a reason to say you were right to be scared. If you give me a chance."

Niall couldn't quite breathe, because up until this point he hadn't been completely sure that Zayn even wanted another chance. Niall couldn't do anything in that moment except nod. Zayn stepped closer and after a pause, he pulled Niall towards him by the hands. "You're actually here... I'm gonna go ahead - Can I? - I kind of really need a hug. From you. Been needing one for a really long time. Just don't run away? Last time I did this you ran for the hills and left me standing alone in a diner."

He sounded sheepish so Niall laughed and melted into the waiting arms which immediately closed tight around him. Then he buried his face into the soft material of Zayn's hoodie and inhaled deeply, getting closer and closer to tears because of how perfect and right that embrace felt. Niall was so glad he'd come here. He lifted his head a little after a while, eyes indeed wet. "I didn't know if you even still wanted me. But I stalked you all the way to Paris to tell you I'm here now and I want to be with you if you do still want me."

Zayn laughed, soft and light and genuine. "Um, yeah. I still want you. Understatement of the century."

"Good because this whole thing could've potentially gotten awkward," Niall joked. But really, he kind of meant it. He'd never discarded the possibility that he might come here and be told to fuck off. Which would've been slightly awkward, yes. And more importantly, devastating.

Zayn took a small step back, a slow dazzling smile on his face as he looked Niall up and down. "You're real, right? I'm just saying, maybe my loneliness finally drove me to insanity and I'm just hallucinating right now. Because the more I think about it, you being here right now... It doesn't feel real."

Niall pulled him back in by his hoodie, grabbed hold of a patch of skin on his neck and twisted it between his fingers, laughing.

"What the fuck. Ow," Zayn said, but his eyes twinkled. "You just got here and I'm already being abused. I'm starting to regret letting you in here."

"I was pinching you," Niall explained. "To show you I'm real and you're real. So this is real. We're both here and isn't that the greatest thing ever? But hey, if this still doesn't feel real to you, you should probably kiss me. Just sayin'."  _Definitely kiss me._

Zayn did. It started off slow and soft as they gently became reacquainted. There was almost a shy sweetness to the kisses as Zayn carefully cupped Niall's face and tasted his lips over and over. Niall clasped his hands around the back of Zayn's neck, desperately wanting to pull him closer, closer, closer. It wasn't fucking close enough.

Yes, the kiss started off sweet. But soon enough their tongues were slipping and sliding and hands were clawing down backs. Niall heart was beating so fast he just hoped it wouldn't give out before this was over. He'd imagined this moment for almost two years now, thought about what it would be like to freely touch Zayn like this again, he'd imagined what it would be like to watch the way he squeezed his eyes shut and gulped hard when Niall licked that spot at the base of his throat - yep there it was, he still did it.

Niall kind of understood what Zayn had been saying about this not quite feeling real. Zayn's hands were roaming all over his body, seemingly everywhere at once- one minute they were traveling under Niall's sweater and upwards to flick his nipples, next moment they were gripping Niall's ass and massaging it in sync with the motions of Zayn rocking his groin against Niall's.

Zayn broke away to pull Niall's sweater off and he tossed it somewhere behind himself. He quickly tugged off his own hoodie in record time and when it was thrown to the side, Niall curled his fingers into the waistline of Zayn's sweatpants and pulled him back in, crashing their bare chests together. Their mouths immediately reattached and somewhere in the back of his mind Niall noted that he was being blindly led through the apartment.

They stumbled and bumped into numerous objects. Zayn briefly broke the kiss when they reached what appeared to be the bedroom door, murmuring lowly into Niall's neck, "I have every intention of ruining you tonight. Over and over. I'm gonna fuck you so hard, fuck I almost feel bad for you. And it's your own fault babe, for waltzing in here today after how many months, looking so fucking  _fine._ I want you so bad. Can you feel how bad I want you?"

Jesus fucking  _Christ._ Niall groaned where he stood and nodded because yes, he could feel him perfectly through his sweatpants. He dug his hands into Zayn's ass and rubbed his own stiffening erection against Zayn's, and when the friction through their pants was nearly enough to satisfy him he took a step back and quickly discarded his jeans and briefs, Zayn watching him with dark sexy eyes, slipping a hand underneath his sweatpants and biting hard into his lip.

When Niall was fully naked he surged forward and pushed Zayn into the room, backwards, backwards, until his legs hit the foot of the bed. There Niall rapidly dropped to his knees before him and shoved the grey material of Zayn's sweatpants down his legs, exposing his upright thick glistening cock. Niall eyed it hungrily for a second - yep, he'd really missed it - before wrapping his lips around the head and licking it sloppily, wetly. By now, Zayn was biting his lip so damn hard Niall knew that he had to be tasting blood. Niall had only been sucking it for no longer than five minutes when Zayn's legs suddenly shook and Zayn groaned, "I'm gonna need you to stop. If you keep doing that, I'm gonna -" He stopped short and sat up to pull Niall up to his feet and onto the bed. They moved up towards the headboard, Zayn covering Niall and they kissed and groped hungrily for another minute.

Niall wanted him so bad, wanted to feel every part him. He moved against him, rubbing their cocks together and it felt good but it wasn't exactly what he wanted. "Zayn... Fuck me," Niall urged. Begged. He barely recognized his own voice. He barely registered anything. The only he really knew was that he needed to feel Zayn moving inside him. He watched as Zayn slicked his fingers with lube that had magically appeared from somewhere.

Niall nodded his encouragement and  _keened_ when the first finger went in. Zayn jabbed it in and out, his breath coming out in quick little spurts as he furrowed his brow and watched Niall's face. A second finger went it and then a third. It hurt a little but the burn was welcome because Niall knew it was preparing him from the hard dick which was currently pressing against his thigh and which Niall so desperately needed to feel deep in his ass. 

When he couldn't take the wait anymore, he pulled the fingers away and clawed at Zayn's back, urging him to, "Go. Fuck. Please. Zayn, come on..." Zayn nodded and pressed a fierce hard kiss against Niall's lips. He rubbed a handful of lube along his dick. And he went, just like Niall was begging him to. He slid in fully, holding onto Niall's trembling parted thighs and staying motionless there for a moment until Niall moved his head in a slight nod.

He pulled out to his tip and then rammed back in. Again and again, picking up the pace each time. And Niall was loving it. The feeling of being filled so fully. The delicious burn as Zayn dragged his dick inside him. Niall wanted it bad and he kept telling him so. He told him how good his dick felt and he told him that he'd imagined this very moment time and time again whenever he used to get himself off. 

"Yeah?" Zayn asked roughly when Niall told him that part. He pushed into him again and this time he brushed against the ball of nerves inside him. When he saw the way Niall's eyes briefly rolled back and his mouth went slack, he repeated the movement, hitting the spot repeating.

"Oh my -  _Fuck,_ " Niall choked out. Zayn continued to grind mercilessly into him and it was everything Niall had ever wanted.

"You used to think about this, about me doing this whenever you touched yourself?"

Niall could hear the delighted fucking smirk in his voice even though his eyes were shut tight and if he wasn't currently lost in waves of mind-numbing ecstasy, he figured he would roll his eyes. As it was he couldn't have rolled his eyes even if he tried really hard, he could barely concentrate on doing anything besides holding onto the back of Zayn's legs to keep him there and make sure he kept doing  _this._

A moment later, it all became too much for his mere mortal body to bear and he was coming hard between them with choked whimpers, his dick untouched until Zayn gripped onto it to squeeze the last drops of cum out with his thumb. Niall opened his eyes and pulled Zayn down by the neck for a kiss. As soon as he slipped his tongue into Zayn's mouth, he felt the shudder that ran through him and the way his dick rippled inside him. Zayn came like that, panting into Niall's mouth as he seemingly refused to break the kiss.

He uttered one shattered, "Niall." and collapsed on top of him, his face heavily flushed and utterly stunning, his heart thudding in time with Niall's racing one. Niall never wanted to be anywhere else ever again.

 

............................................................

 

It was some hours later at around 2 o'clock in the morning when Niall woke up with his bladder feeling like it was about to burst. He was stuck underneath a sleeping Zayn though so disentangling himself proved to be a challenging endeavor. But he managed and then stumbled towards the en-suite bathroom. When he was midway to his destination, Zayn's drowsy teasing voice sounded in the room, "Look at that. I just got him back and he's already trying to make a run for it."

Niall laughed and proceeded to bump into the wall outside the bathroom. "Ow. I'm going to take a piss, drama queen."

He did his business and then walked back to the bedroom where he crawled back into bed. Zayn had turned over to lay on his side while Niall was in the bathroom. But now he moved onto his back and pulled Niall on top of him. Niall sighed against him and held him close, breathing him in for the hundredth time that night... And then it occurred to him that he was going to have to hand over 50 dollars next time he saw Louis. This was a bet he was ecstatically happy to have lost so he figured he might even throw in an extra 50.

Zayn cupped Niall's face with both hands and softly kissed the dimple in his chin, resting his lips there for a moment. "I'm still about 76% sure I'm dreaming all of this... I thought you'd never change your mind."

Niall fingered the slightly raised bruise next to Zayn's collarbone that his mouth and teeth had left earlier. He was quite proud of himself; planned on leaving a couple more. He kissed the skin there. "After you left... I thought maybe it was for the best. I thought that away from each other, we could move on from everything - from each other - and finally live our lives. But then I kept waiting for my life to make sense without you. Kept waiting and waiting..." Niall sighed, but it wasn't unhappy-sounding. At all. "Well, you can imagine how that worked out for me. Here I am, unannounced, on your doorstep."

"Literally thought I was losing my mind when I opened the door," Zayn giggled.

"What, ex-boyfriends turning up on your doorstep when they are meant to be miles away on another continent... that isn't a normal thing for you?"

"Definitely a first." Zayn kissed him, slowly and lovingly, his lips and tongue saying the million things they'd left unspoken over these past few months. And Niall said plenty of things back.

Zayn pulled back and said, "Tomorrow I wanna take you all over Paris. There's so much I want to show you. The time I've been over here, sometimes I'd see something or be somewhere and I'd think,  _Niall would totally love this_. And I'd wish I could show you. Now I can."

"Ooh. Like what?"

"We'll see where we feel like going. But I'm thinking we start the day off with the best chocolate croissants in the city and maybe at night we can end with the lamest kitchest karaoke bar you'll ever get to witness. It's so terrible it's awesome. You'll love it."

"Weirdly enough, that does sound awesome." Niall dropped a big messy smooch that landed somewhere on Zayn's forehead.

There was warm sleepy silence after that and Niall assumed that Zayn was dozing off. But then, "How long are you here for?" Zayn asked lightly. And then a little less lightly he said, "We haven't discussed how we're gonna make sure we do this right this time. Us. Realistically."

Because the first question was easier to respond to, Niall said, "I'm leaving on Saturday. Funeral's on Sunday... Wait, you're coming with me right? To the funeral, I mean. To support Candice."

Zayn hummed his assent. "Yeah, of course. Liam asked me to come. I already booked my flight this morning. But after the funeral I come back here. And you stay there... How are we gonna make sure this works and we don't fuck it up?"

Niall entwined their hands together and squeezed. "Can't be sure of anything, can we? But if we both don't want to fuck this up, we won't. For now, I need to be in America for my job and I guess you need to be here because it seems like you love this place. I'll visit you, you can come visit me. We'll figure it out. Take things as they come."

Zayn nodded. "Yeah... yeah you're right, we'll figure it out... But you know I never intended on staying here forever, right? It was only meant to be for a year at most. I was already looking into relocating to Tokyo next. Mostly, I was gonna move again because - because of you, actually. I kept looking for different things to do, different places to go, to distract myself from the fact that I was pretty miserable. But now I think - yeah, I figure I might just come home in a couple month's time. Once I've wrapped up a few work commitments... What do you think?" He sounded a little nervous, like he wanted so much for Niall to agree this was a good idea.

Niall thought it was the best idea he'd heard in forever. His heart thudded pleasantly in his chest.  _Zayn was coming home._ Niall beamed in the dark but tried to keep his tone at least somewhat casual, "Sounds good to me. Really good."

"Yeah, I think so too."

They kissed again, mumbled sleepy "G'night's" and closed their eyes. Zayn fell asleep first of course and barely two minutes into his slumber Niall gently bit his shoulder to waken him.

He stirred below Niall and made a low snort. "Round four? Are you serious?"

"No, I just... I wanna say something and then we never have to mention it again, okay?" Niall buried his face in Zayn's neck, hiding himself a little and he felt Zayn nod at the same time as he brushed a reassuring hand up and down Niall's back. In a barely decipherable rush, Niall went for it talking at the speed of lightening, "I'm only gonna say this once. Because I wanna trust you. I do trust you. But I wanna say this once. I'm letting myself love you again and I'm doing it with the belief that you're not gonna hurt me. I'm believing that you'll always be honest with me like I'll be with you. Basically I'm asking you not to lie to me or keep things from me. Or ever stop talking to me if you think we're having a problem because that shit hurt like hell the first time. I couldn't take it if you did and also, I'd be forced to slice off your dick with a blunt knife. So just don't do it, okay? And I won't do it either. Alright. That's... all I wanted to say," he finished lamely, his cheeks heating ever so slightly.

Niall felt himself being hugged tight almost to the point of breathlessness in an embrace that said everything and then there was a quiet earnest, "Okay."

And that was honestly all the reassurance Niall was looking for.

He relaxed now that he'd gotten that out. "Sorry for waking you."

Zayn gave a leisurely yawn and his hands slipped down to give Niall's ass a quick squeeze. "It's okay. Getting bitten awake is kind of nice. I think I'll be returning the favor in the morning... I'll make sure you really like it."

Niall's heart sped up in premature anticipation. "As long as you don't bite my dick, I'm down... You can go back to sleep, I know you want to. Pretty boys like you need their beauty sleep."

Zayn grunted in indignation. "I'm not pretty. My mom says I'm ruggedly handsome... You're beautiful though... Good night. Je t’aime tres fort," he mumbled tiredly. 

 _Ooh_. That gave Niall an idea. Next time they fucked, Niall was gonna get him to talk in his ear in French the whole time. So hot. 

"Why's your dick getting hard? Horndog," Zayn snorted.

Niall shifted a little to relieve some of the friction and make things bearable for himself. "I'll tell you tomorrow. Later today actually. And I'm only a horndog for you, ruggedly handsome." Zayn gave him a slow sleepy kiss, laughing a little into his mouth, and then he settled back and his breathing evened out.

Ten seconds later Niall bit him on the chest, not hard enough for it to hurt but enough for Zayn to stir again, groaning fondly now. Niall smiled in the dark. "Just, um, I love you too. A whole lot. I like that I can say it as much as I want now... Okay, that was the last time waking you up, I swear... Go to sleep."


	30. Epilogue

**_10 months, 3 days after Paris_ **

"For the love of God. Leave me alone.."

Niall’s phone had just hummed with yet another text. The umpteenth one that evening. With a long-suffering sigh, he forced himself off the living room couch where he'd been having a very content lie-down. Earlier, he'd put his phone way out of reach on the farthest bookshelf in the room in an attempt to ignore everybody for just a little while. Now he dragged himself over there and read the message he’d already known was from his mother. She had been driving him absolutely nuts that whole day. For  _weeks_  before today, actually. Honestly, he loved her very much but if he never received another text from her in his entire life he would be perfectly okay with that.

Just in time, Niall heard the front door of the house opening and a few moments later Zayn appeared in the living room carrying a large shopping bag filled with rolls of wrapping paper. Generally speaking, Niall was always very happy to see him but today he was particularly enthusiastic even though it had only been two hours since Zayn had left.

Niall strode to the middle of the room where Zayn was setting his parcel down on the floor and grumbling half-heartedly about traffic. But Zayn stopped mid-sentence when he noticed the look on Niall’s face. And then he laughed softly as he kissed Niall on the lips. “Okay. Who was it this time? Your mom? Waliyha? You look so stressed out.”

“My mother,” Niall confirmed, shaking his head. “I keep telling her we won’t be late for her precious dinner and we've done everything we need to for tomorrow. But she won’t leave me alone. I think I should just turn my phone off...”

Zayn laughed even harder. “No! God, please no. If you do that then everybody will start hounding  _me_  instead... C'mere." He opened his arms and folded Niall tight into them saying, “You know she just gets excited. Let’s take a minute to ourselves, chill for a bit, then we’ll get dressed and get going.”

Niall's eyes closed as he melted against Zayn’s body and felt some of the tightness and irritation leaving his own body. “I have a better idea. Let’s ditch the party and just stay in. I’m  _tired_. Today was a really long day, I need to sleep,” he mumbled against Zayn’s cheek.

“She will kill us. As in, she will literally kill us.”

Niall sighed. Zayn wasn’t lying. Maura Horan would skin Niall alive and hang him out to dry if he ditched. Maybe Zayn would just get off with a harsh talking-to.

So Niall resigned himself to his fate. “Okay, fine. But just come lay with me on the couch for a minute. I've been with you all day but never just the two of us. And I really am fucking exhausted." Niall took him by the wrist and led him to the wide red sofa that he had vacated just minutes earlier. He plonked down on it, sinking into its wonderful softness and pulling Zayn down with him. There with his arms around Zayn he considered really not going to the party - it was only his skin and life at stake after all...maybe he didn’t actually need those if it meant getting to stay right where he was for now.

“You make everything better,” he said to Zayn, because it was true.

“That’s what I’m here for.” Smiling, Zayn pressed a light kiss to the tip of Niall’s nose and then a more intentful one to his lips, lingering there.

Someone’s tongue slipped inside someone’s mouth and soon they were both lost. A hazy minute later, “You know what would go a long way in making things even better right now?” Niall asked suggestively, raising a brow as one hand slid down Zayn’s back to brush and squeeze his ass.

There was a tortured pause. And then Zayn shook his head, groaning as he buried his head along the warmth of Niall’s neck. “We can’t. You know we shouldn't. It was  _your_  brilliant idea in the first place. And now you’re the one always tempting me. Evil.”

“I know it was my idea. But it was a dumb one... I need you so bad. C'mon, just...” Niall considered adding that it didn’t even need to be full-on sex. Even a handjob at this point would be greatly welcomed. It had been way too long and he knew that the lack of action was part of the reason why he was so quick to get stressed out over his mother’s antics. Rutting upwards against Zayn’s crotch, Niall murmured, “Baby. Please. Do you want me to beg?”

Zayn closed his eyes. “Evil.” Niall could feel how fast his heart was beating and he knew it would just take one more ‘please baby’ to make Zayn give in. But before he could do anything or say anything, in one swift movement Zayn pinned Niall’s arms above his head and dropped a kiss to his forehead, a rueful grin spreading on his face. “You forget I know you. You had your reasons for wanting to wait. If I give in, you’ll be happy right now but later you’ll be mad at yourself. Not to mention mad at me. So no, I’m not gonna let those big blue angel eyes pull me in.” He shot up from the couch, hand to his bulging crotch. “Shit. I need a cold shower thanks to you.”

Niall’s lips formed a sullen pout as he realised that he would be going yet another day without having Zayn’s mouth around his cock or even just Zayn’s hand around him. He wished he’d never come up with this dumb abstinence idea in the first place because  _fucking hell_ , he really needed sex right now. He really needed to fuck Zayn, to be specific.

“You suck,” Niall remarked half-heartedly as Zayn walked away.  _Suck my dick instead please._

“Love you too!” Zayn called back laughing and a minute later, Niall heard the undoubtedly-cold shower water come on.

.................................

**_10 months ago..._ **

When they got back together that night in Paris, in the back of his mind Niall knew that a little part of himself was waiting for the ball to drop, for everything to go to hell again. It only made sense. Because being this astoundingly happy just didn’t seem like something that would last for very long.

After all, everything had been great the first time around too, before the break-up. (Niall couldn’t help but think: maybe not  _this_  great though.) But yes, they’d been very happy before and everything had still gone so horribly wrong. So, even though he was trying his best to have a little faith, there was still that worrying little thought following him around, cautioning him that maybe it wasn’t smart to let his guard down too much.

But even with all that, he was. Happy.

When Zayn flew back to Paris after Mr Hewlett’s funeral, it was a short month later (not even two months like he’d initially said) that Zayn was back home for good. The first night he was back, Niall pretended to complain a bit in bed, “You didn’t even stay long enough for me to get to visit you in Paris again. I seem to recall you promising me wonderful croissants from some bakery and you said we’d go to karaoke bars and you’d show me all over Paris. Instead you kept me holed up in your apartment the whole day. A day you spent talking about the most random things on earth and sexing me up. Oh and you fed me chocolate chip cookies occasionally.” Niall tried to sound as if that day hadn’t been the most perfect day of his entire life, but he mostly failed.

And Zayn laughed and said, “I woke up feeling selfish that day, I wanted you all to myself...Wanted to hear your obnoxious laugh over and over. That’s what all the talking was for. I missed talking to you while we were apart. The rest...I was just trying to make up for lost time.”

“Well, we certainly did that,” Niall said, taking Zayn's hand and grasping it tight. It was so nice to just be able to physically hold his hand.  _Zayn was home_. “I’m really glad you came home early.”

“Had to. I missed you,” Zayn said simply. “My apartment isn’t even on the market yet but I couldn’t wait another month. Besides, didn't wanna give you time to change your mind.”

Niall shook his head. “Not gonna change my mind... I have no idea how things are gonna turn out but I want this more than anything. I want us.”

Zayn was back home again and when everything kept being good between them and things didn’t turn to complete ruins in the weeks after that, Niall started to relax a little and enjoy it. Neither of them wanted to go back to feeling the way they had while they’d been apart. And it was nice that making this work didn’t feel like  _work,_ it felt right and worth it.

Zayn moved back into his old apartment - Niall tried to protest and offered to help him find something better, only because he knew how much Zayn disliked that place. But Zayn insisted that it didn’t matter, he just wanted to be close by to the people he loved. “I’ll find something better when the time is right,” Zayn added. So Niall left the topic alone and therefore got to know that beige sparsely-decorated condo very well as the two of them split their time between their respective apartments. Most of their time was spent at Niall’s though - Zayn seemed to prefer it more and Niall did too to be perfectly honest.

But in those first couple of months, sometimes Niall would get the feeling that Zayn was holding back from him a little. And it wasn’t that Zayn was being anything less than loving or attentive. It was more that sometimes in the middle of conversations that were potentially turning into minor spats, Zayn would back off before the spat happened. Again and again. And each time, Zayn would try to act like he was fine even though Niall could see with his own two eyes that Zayn wasn't fine. Niall was getting pretty tired of asking, “Are you sure you’re okay?” and getting a bright ungenuine smile in return.

Eventually it bothered Niall enough that he decided to take action. Petty action, maybe, but action nonetheless. Just to see how bad the situation really was, Niall did the worst thing he could think of. (Well, the worst thing he could think of that he knew would get a rise out of Zayn but wouldn’t cause any real damage between them).

The next time he stayed over at Zayn’s apartment, he took his sweet time in the shower the following morning and made sure to use up the last half of Zayn’s incredibly expensive Phillip B Russian Amber Imperial Conditioning Creme. To most people hair products were just hair products, but Zayn cherished that conditioner with an adoration that bordered on reverence. And the morning that Niall finished the bottle also happened to be the day Zayn had a meeting with his agent, a nice woman named Clara. In other words, a day Zayn needed his hair to be perfect, according to his own impossible standards.

(Going back in time a little, the first time Niall clocked an eyeful of the price of this conditioner-in-question was during a trip the two of them took to Saks in New York. Niall had almost choked on his own spit. He’d then told Zayn that he hoped the conditioner came with a French maid and a golden harp, because otherwise there was no justifying spending that kind of money on hair stuff. Look, Zayn had great hair, beautiful hair, Niall would be the first to tell you that - but Niall was almost positive Zayn could get hair just as great with a lower-end brand. Kind of how Zayn used to have perfectly great hair long before he had any money to blow.)

So, Niall used up the last of this precious conditioner one daring Saturday morning and when he got out of the shower he made sure to make a big show of throwing the bottle away in the kitchen dustbin right next to where Zayn was making scrambled eggs. Zayn’s eyes widened when he saw what Niall was throwing away and then he continued to just stare. He was seemingly lost for words and Niall actually felt really really bad.

But then Zayn took a deep breath and grimaced for about 5 seconds with his eyes shut tight (Niall just  _knew_  he was counting in his head to calm himself down) before opening his eyes and smiling tightly. Zayn shrugged. “You finished the bottle. Pretty sure it was half full yesterday. But okay. Okay...I’ll go without it today. Yeah. I’ll just use the regular stuff. That makes my hair feel like straw. No biggie.” He stiffly turned back towards the frying pan.

What. Dumb-founded, Niall shook his head as he stared at his boyfriend’s back. “No. Nope. Hold it right there...What are you doing?”

Zayn indeed halted. And then turned around, looking confused. “What do you mean?”

“Last week when Doniya admitted she used just a handful of your precious Phillips-whatever hair concoction, you chewed the poor girl out for over 5 minutes and you said - I’m quoting you here - you said, ‘I may love you. But don’t think I won’t kill you if you touch my stuff again’...You sounded dead serious, mind you. I just finished the bottle. And all you have to say about it is ‘no biggie’?”

Zayn's eyes narrowed. “Why do I get the feeling you _want_ me to be pissed? Anyway, it’s just conditioner,” he mumbled unconvincingly.

This wasn't going like Niall had imagined. "Yeah, that’s what I always tell you when you insist on buying it and yet you always beg to differ. Anyway, this is not about the conditioner. I’m talking about everything...You keep doing this. Even when you look like you’re one second away from tearing my head off, you act like everything’s okay. You pretend you’re not pissed off even when I can  _clearly_  see you are. It’s starting to freak me out, to be honest. What are you doing?”

“Niall, I’m not doing anything.” When Niall shot an unimpressed look his way, Zayn started to look a little sheepish. They stared at each other mildly, each one waiting to see who would back off first. Eventually Zayn sighed, putting the spatula down. “I don’t want - I guess I'm just trying not to mess this up, okay. I don’t want us to fight. I want you to be happy? With me. I don’t want to mess  _us_ up. Like before."

Niall’s face softened and he didn’t know whether to kick him or kiss him. “Oh..." Niall was quiet for a few moments as he considered Zayn's words and then he said, "But I don't want you to hold back though. You make me happy. And I know you know that... I’m not saying I want us to fight, but it would be nice if you felt free enough to call me out when something I do pisses you off. Otherwise you’re just gonna end up resenting me. If you keep holding dumb stuff in like this.”

Zayn didn’t look completely convinced. “Sometimes it’s wiser to pick your battles. I don't wanna get into a fight over hair products.”

And Niall rolled his eyes. “Yes, it's wise to pick your battles. But you don’t pick any lately. Even when I know you’re itching to. I dunno, when you act like that it makes me feel kinda uneasy. I can't tell how mad you really are or if I need to apologise or if I need to explain something I did if you're getting it wrong.”

Zayn nodded but at the same time he sighed and roughly pulled Niall in for a hug. “We were really close to staying broken up for good. I think about that sometimes. I don’t want anything to ruin this.” He sounded torn and Niall could understand where he was coming from. He'd had similar fears too.

He wrapped his arms around Zayn’s back and tightened the hug, hoping to give off some measure of all the love he felt for this person. “I do understand, I get it - not too long ago I was scared we'd find a way to mess this up again. But lately, I feel like we won’t. I think - we just have to always be honest with each other. And not everything even has to end up being a fight. You can just be like ‘Niall I’m really mad that you finished my conditioner. Don’t do it again’ and I’ll be like ‘Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll buy you some more and I’ll make it up to you.’ ”

Niall grinned when he saw Zayn’s (real) smile. “See, Zayn, no fight. But now, you don’t need to give yourself a stress-induced hernia trying to act like I didn’t piss you off.”

“You’re right. You're kinda smart sometimes.” He kissed Niall’s lips once. Twice. “You don’t have to buy me another bottle. But for real, don’t do it again, okay? I can get you some for yourself if you like.” He looked so serious again. And it was cute.

Niall burst out laughing, giving his boyfriend's arm a squeeze. “You’re sweet. And I love you. But plain old L’Oreal works just fine for me... _You’re_  the one they're paying, someone should probably let them know what a horrible brand ambassador you are - not a single L’Oreal product to be seen in this entire apartment.” He kissed him and added, “I really am sorry for using up your bottle though. How about... I give you a nice long massage when you get back from your meeting and we can take it wherever you want from there.”

And the following week when they got into a tiff over where to park outside the cinema and Zayn grumbled like an annoying shit for over 5 minutes because Niall wouldn’t park closer to the entrance, Niall was actually pretty glad for that tiff. Even if he did temporarily want to kill his boyfriend.

They had quite a few more little issues to iron out. That was to be expected though, given everything that had gone wrong before and how much time they’d spent apart. For starters, Niall had another one of his infamous “brilliant” ideas late one Friday night about two months into their new relationship. They were watching the latest X-Men movie on Niall's couch after having drunk an entire bottle of wine with their dinner. Feeling nicely intoxicated and warm and cozy, Niall turned down the volume and slurred slightly, out of blue, “Hey, you know what we should do? We should get everything out of the way right now. We should confess who we were with while we were apart. And then never talk it about it again... I always wonder what you got up to after we broke up but I never know how to ask.”

“Bad idea,” Zayn murmured. He was very sleepy and if the two of them weren’t going to finish this movie, then the next best thing on his list would be to fall asleep right there on that lovely couch with his lovely boyfriend. Talking about ex-hookups featured nowhere on that list.

But Niall was insistent. “We shouldn’t hide anything from each other. Look, we’ll make a promise - no judging or harsh comments or getting mad... We’ll be mature about this. I just really want to know. And then I’ll never speak about it again. Please.”

Zayn sighed. And then closed his eyes with resignation. “I don't see what good could possibly come from this. But I never want to keep stuff from you, especially if you’re asking me to tell you.”

So Zayn told him. About those random hook-ups he could barely remember during those dark depressed months after they first broke up. About the friends-with-benefits thing he had going on after that with one of the other models at the agency, Andrew. (Niall made a note-to-self to google this Andrew person as soon as possible, all the while trying to ignore the pesky ugly jealousy already tumbling around in his chest.) And then Zayn told Niall about how he stopped hooking up as soon as the two of them got back in contact, when Zayn started trying to win him back. (And Niall felt much better at hearing that.)

But then Zayn told him about the guy he met at a bar and fucked the night Niall sent him that text saying that he was going to try to make it work with Luke. (Niall stiffened and tried to control his breathing, and he reminded himself that he was the one who’d asked to be told about all this.)

And while Niall was trying to keep nonchalant as he pictured all of this in his head with brutal clarity, Zayn talked about Francois. The musician who he’d casually dated for about two months in France. When Niall quietly asked if he went on dates with people other than Francois and Zayn answered just as quietly: “a few”, Niall promptly extricated himself from the cuddle and got up from the couch, mumbling something about needing to get to bed.

Sighing, Zayn stayed put for a few moments, bracing himself, before standing up to go join Niall in the bedroom. He found his boyfriend curled up into himself in the dark, smack in the middle of the bed. When Zayn leaned over the bed to give him a kiss on the cheek, he got no response or movement. “Niall... You asked me to tell you. So.. what's wrong now?” he asked slowly. From the Niall-shaped mass on the bed, there was a terse quiet, "Nothing." Zayn moved to lie next to him and then he reached over to touched his cheek. “Niall, it's obviously something.”

“It's nothing,” Niall insisted, despite evidence to the contrary. “I’m just... I'm very drunk and I’m sad.”

“But why? What's there to be sad about?”

“Because you were with other people. Other people were with you...”

Zayn groaned in exasperation. He rolled over on top of Niall and settled there before telling him, “Firstly, I  _told_  you this was a bad idea. Secondly, none of those people matter anymore."

Niall’s alcohol-saturated mind wanted to accept this and just go to sleep, but his mouth had other ideas. “I bet you enjoyed it. Sex with Andrew and Francois and whoever else. Maybe you even enjoyed it more than sex with me.”

“You’re being ridiculous... And whatever happened to no judgment and no getting mad?”

“I’m not mad. I’m sad. Very sad.”

“You really shouldn’t be.” Zayn sounded simply puzzled.

Niall turned his face away and tried to push Zayn off him. He wanted to be left alone to wallow in his misery. "Telling me I shouldn't be, won't suddenly make me not. I wish I didn't ask you in the first place because now... I'll just keep wondering if you wish you were still having sex with hot models and French singers..."

Zayn stayed in place despite Niall's half-hearted efforts. "You honestly think I still -" Zayn cut himself off, sounding exasperated and even a bit mad, before starting again, “After how hard I tried to get you back? You shouldn’t be sad because... because  _everything_  is better with you. Whatever happened with anyone else was just, like, a temporary distraction, even when I was trying to give things a shot. I don’t know why you would say stuff like that.”

Niall frowned and mumbled, "I don't know."

"Here's what you should know. I wanted you the whole time," Zayn said quietly.

Niall was silent for a few moments. Then he sighed and said, "Sorry. I'm being an idiot. Ignore me... At least I never had to actually see you with those people.”

Zayn nodded. “Yeah. I did have to see you with him. But none of it matters anymore. I don’t care about any of them.” He rolled over again and pulled Niall on top of him, holding him there. “I don’t want to know who else you were with. The Luke thing was more than enough for my eyes and ears. Let’s just forget them all. Stop being upset, please. Remember all those times I swore up and down that I’d make you happy? When you get so sad, it means I’m failing miserably.”

“You say that like I do this all the fucking time. Pretty sure this is the first time since.. since we got back together. Blame the dumb wine... I'm probably gonna be really embarrassed tomorrow...” He even laughed a little so Zayn knew that he was okay and they were okay.

They kept their promise to never speak about their past hook-ups and relationships again. So a few weeks later when Niall heard from Louis who heard from Abena (Zayn and Luke's model friend) that Luke had recently gotten into a high-profile “serious relationship” with Brooke Daniels; Niall didn’t mention it to Zayn. He’d find out for himself anyway, it would soon be all over the papers. Brooke was a very famous actress, America's golden-haired sweetheart.

According to Abena however, Luke was actually in a very loving very hush-hush relationship with his stylist Ben. The Brooke Daniels thing had been put in motion to further both Luke and Brooke’s careers, particularly to promote a new action-romance 3 part movie series they were co-starring in. It still made Niall sad that Luke had to hide such a big part of himself, but according to Abena, Luke and Ben were happy. So at least there was that.

..................................

Four months after their reunion in France, Niall and Zayn took the next big step. They were chatting late one night during one of their random drives around town, talking about how Niall's landlord really needed to come in and do some repairs in the laundry room and then Zayn suggested that maybe they should just forget about landlords and repairs. Maybe they should just move into their own place. Together.

It was honestly an easy decision to make. Maybe it would appear to other people like they were moving too fast, but when it came down to it Niall and Zayn had known and loved each other for years. They knew they wanted it to be a house not an apartment because they wanted something that felt permanent, a place just for themselves where they could raise a couple of puppies, goldfish and lizards. (And maybe raise something else, one day.)

Finding a house was hard work though - they couldn’t find one they both loved enough to make a home. There was always something wrong with the houses they saw; either the bathroom wasn't up to standard or the kitchen was too small or the mood of a room felt too 'cold' as Zayn kept saying (Niall had no idea what that meant, to be honest.)

It was actually Zayn’s mother who spotted the lovely three bedroom house for-sale not too far from Niall’s current apartment. The house had a neat little lawn in the front, a spacious backyard and was painted an attractive pastel yellow. As soon as Zayn and Niall toured the house at the viewing, they knew it was perfect without really having to say a word to each other. So they bought it, agreeing that the house would go under both their names but Zayn would pay the mortgage while Niall took care of monthly household expenses.

“A year ago, I didn't know if we would ever even be talking again. Now look at us," Zayn said to him the day they moved in. They were both exhausted, slumped on the kitchen tiles with their backs against the cupboards as they munched on Niall's sloppily made PB and J sandwiches. "Can't believe this is actually our house." They were exhausted but ecstatic. They’d just spent the entire day unpacking and moving furniture around, getting settled into  _their_  house.

They had to learn to fall into a new rhythm in this house of theirs. Living together wasn’t a new thing for them obviously; they’d lived together for years while Niall was a student. But that was the very thing - Niall had been a student back then, with fairly predictable student hours and more time to spend at home. And Zayn had just been starting out as a model, not nearly as established and busy as he was now. It wasn’t easy trying to make a home for themselves now, with Niall sometimes working really late hours as he strived towards his goal of making partner in the next couple of years; and with Zayn often overseas or in Los Angeles for work. It was hard, but they had to make it work. They knew that things would calm down once Niall eventually (hopefully) made partner, and in the meantime Zayn tried to schedule as much of his work as possible during normal office hours.

To make up for the days where they couldn’t spend much time together, Zayn often showed up at Niall’s office around noon to take him out for lunch. They let Louis tag along sometimes but most of the time he insisted that they go on without him. And upon Zayn’s arrival at the office for these lunchtime dates, Niall would be reminded that  _oh yeah, my boyfriend is kinda famous_ because some of the newer junior associates would proceed to blush and stumble over their words and touch-up their lipstick discretely. The fact that the boyfriend in question happened to be extraordinarily hot probably caused a large degree of the blushing and stumbling. And Niall would think just a touch smugly: Yep, that's my baby.

They worked around their often conflicting schedules as best as they could. Weekends were spent buying little tid-bits for their house and inviting their friends over for parties and Sunday afternoon barbecues with Niall manning the grill. At  _their_  house. (It took a ridiculously long time for them to stop being so awed over the fact that they owned a house together... They annoyed everybody.)

Then something great happened. Candice and Liam got unexpectedly pregnant (unexpected but very wanted). As soon as they broke the news to their group of friends at one of Louis’ Sunday lunches that Candice was two and a half months along, it was like they were _all_  about to have a kid - there was so much excitement and love and talking-all-at-once and general chaos.

“I get to be the God parent, of course. You haven’t asked me yet but no worries, I accept.” Louis.

“We’re gonna have a baby with us soon. A real baby! Uncle Harry. I’m gonna be an uncle. I can’t wait to become best friends with her. Or him... Liam, Candice, you did good.”

Niall didn’t know if he was being a complete sap but he became rather emotional as he thought about how much he hoped that one day he and Zayn would have little buggers running around, through adoption or any way. He knew that Zayn would make such a terrific father and Niall couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than to get to witness that. And maybe Zayn was thinking something similar there across the dining room table because his eyes were locked solely on Niall’s even as their friends shouted and laughed all around them. Then he smiled and said in a low quiet voice, “Love you.”

“Ugh. Stop eye-fucking, you two! Some of us are recently having enough trouble as it is keeping our food down.” Candice laughed and broke a bread roll in half and threw a piece at each of their faces.

Of course, the natural thing to do was to projectile-missile a few peas in her direction.

Just to spite her, Niall blew a kiss at Zayn and winked suggestively, but couldn’t keep it going for very long before bursting into loud chuckles.

Things were good.

...............................

**_10 months, 3 days after Paris_ **

"For the love of God. And Jesus Christ. And all things Holy."

Niall rolled his eyes to the high-heavens when his phone vibrated in his pocket, ringing shrilly to the tune of Kanye’s Good Life. He and Zayn were already in the car, halfway to his parents’ mansion, gifts good and wrapped in the back seat. When he reluctantly drew out his phone, he saw that oh, it wasn’t his mother. It was Waliyha. Same thing though. Niall wished that he was a little more like Zayn who was better at ignoring everybody. This was why they all hounded Niall.

He and Zayn and all the other men in their two families were all grown adults- it would be nice if they could be trusted enough to make it to dinner in one piece. Especially after the long day they’d all successfully gone through.  _Who was he kidding?_ They would never be trusted to get things done on their own. Niall was starting to accept that.

And he was also starting to accept that having people in your life who cared this much about you shouldn’t really be considered a bad thing. It was an occasionally annoying thing. But not bad. He loved them all, fiercely.

A few minutes after Waliyha's call, Zayn pulled into the Horan driveway and parked behind the many other cars already there. Once they got out the car, they took a couple of moments to straighten out their dress shirts and jackets. They walked up the winding driveway each carrying a bag of presents and before they even made it very far, Safaa was already out the front door rushing to meet them, looking very pretty in a fancy party dress.

Because there was really nothing more to do at this point, Niall and Zayn looked at each other and laughed in utter defeat.

“Everybody’s waiting for you guys. You’re late. We told you you’d be late,” Safaa said breathlessly as she reached them and settled in between the two men, latching onto each of their arms as they all walked towards the house.

When they stepped into the mansion, Niall’s mother was there to meet them and Niall had been expecting nothing else. Her tiny body was buzzing with so much excitement, it was a small wonder she was still standing upright. She hugged them both tightly. “Better late than never. My beautiful boys! Into the dining room we go. Everybody’s been waiting for the guests of honour.”

Guests of honour indeed. With the way she’d been carrying on these past weeks, anyone would think _she_  was the one getting married tomorrow.

Except of course, she wasn't the one getting married tomorrow. Niall and Zayn were.

Nonetheless, despite her over-exuberance, Niall grinned at his mother and then at Zayn and said, “Well, here goes nothing. Let’s go see what this rehearsal dinner stuff is all about. I only plan on doing this once in my life so I might as well enjoy it.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Zayn said, squeezing his hand.

Right on cue, his mother started tearing up. “I’m just so happy. This is all a mother wants for her children. I know I’ve been a bit of a bridezilla - mother-of-one-of-the-grooms-zilla? Anyway I know I’ve been a bit intense about the wedding but it’s only because I’m so  _happy_. You boys found each other again and tomorrow, we all get to celebrate with you.”

What kind of son would begrudge their mother this happiness? Niall hugged her tight there outside of the dining room and told her, “Thank you, Mom. We couldn’t have done this without you.”

It was the truth. They couldn’t have done this without her, or without Zayn’s mother and sisters, or without Louis and Candice and countless other loved ones who’d all worked their butts off to make the wedding happen from the day Niall and Zayn had announced their engagement two months ago. That’s what the presents they’d brought with them tonight were for - to thank each person who’d helped them plan the million little aspects it had taken to put the wedding together.

Earlier that day, they’d had the wedding rehearsal, carefully orchestrated by Louis. It had gone off without a hitch, except for Zayn’s nephew, the ring-bearer, puking all over Harry’s shoes while Harry was standing in for the priest. (The Imam was present at the rehearsal; he would be overseeing the joint ceremony along with the priest.)

Besides that little vomiting incident, the mock ceremony had been perfect and Niall was pretty sure that Louis had willed it that way - Louis had personally promised to slaughter any person who dared to mess up at the rehearsal, groom and groom included.

But despite his aggressive protection of all things wedding related, Louis clearly wasn’t as bad-boy as he thought he was - after all, he was the one who patiently and carefully wiped the vomit off of Harry’s shoes. If that wasn’t love, Niall didn’t know what was.

The wedding tomorrow would be taking place right where they were currently having the dinner - well, not right in the Horan dining room (or dining  _hall_ as Zayn liked to call it) but right in the ginormous meticulously cared-for garden at the back of the house. The garden was Mr Horan’s pride and joy, complete with primroses, bluebells, cyclamens and nearby orchids. It was the perfect place for an outdoor summer wedding and Niall and Zayn had readily agreed when Mr Horan had suggested it as a venue. At that very moment, there were numerous workers outside putting up the high canopy, as well as finishing touches to the black and mint-coloured decor that was exactly to the grooms’ mothers’ tastes.

Niall, Zayn and Maura entered the dining room with Safaa lagging behind them and were met with cheers and greetings from all corners of the room. It seemed like everybody was there - Mr Horan, Zayn’s parents, siblings, a few cousins on both sides, grandparents, Harry, Louis, Liam, a heavily pregnant Candice, some close childhood friends. Everybody they loved was in that room and it made Niall feel a bit teary as he looked back at all of them and saw how very happy they were for him and Zayn.

Once they were all seated, (Niall next to Zayn’s mother because she was the sole voice of reason in all the madness surrounding the wedding), the platter lids at the adjacent long buffet table were lifted and two waiters began to serve the party.

“You never did tell us how you two got engaged," Louis remarked suddenly from way down the table as he delicately ate his way through his starter. "You just kind of announced it one day but the story of how it actually happened remains  _ever_  so vague.”

Niall coughed and then blushed hotly when everybody at the table turned to him and Zayn for their answer. Yep, they’d never divulged exactly how they’d gotten engaged and they probably never would.

Because maybe it had happened in the middle of sex on the living room floor with no ring and no fancy speech planned. With no plan at all, in fact. Maybe it had happened with Niall deep inside Zayn as they neared their limit and maybe Niall had realised in that moment what the one thing he wanted more than anything was. So maybe as he'd drawn out and slid back into him he'd uttered brokenly, “Marry me.”

Maybe it happened like that.

A family dinner full of parents and young impressionable children was certainly not the place to share that story. So Niall merely smiled weakly at Louis and said, “Eh. It’s not a very interesting tale. Kinda boring really. We talked about it extensively over dinner one night and realised we were both ready to make the commitment.”

Next to him, Zayn looked so much like he wanted to laugh and Niall prayed that he wouldn’t because if he did there was no way Niall would be able to keep a straight face.

Frowning, Louis mumbled something to Harry who was sitting next to him and Niall imagined it was something to the effect of  _What kind of lame-ass engagement story is that?_  A moment later Louis lifted his wine glass with a shrug and said, “Not quite sure I believe that story, Niall. Anyway, that’s for another time and place. I’d like to make a small toast. Can I please have everybody’s attention..."

Louis waited until the quiet pockets of conversation around the table ceased and all eyes were turned towards him before continuing, "To two of the best friends anybody could ask for. You guys totally deserve each other and usually when people say that it’s meant to be an insult but I mean it as the highest of high compliments. Your wedding is going to be perfect - partly thanks to me - and while I'm told that marriages are never perfect, I think you guys have learned how to weather the storm better than most. So I'm counting on you guys to show the rest of us young ones how it's done. Niall, I'm saving the good embarrassing stuff for my best man speech tomorrow so I guess I'll end with this for now... I love you two idiots and I know you’ll be so happy together. To Zayn and Niall.”

Everyone beamed and murmured, “Hear, hear.” And once again Niall felt a little teary.

Eating and conversation resumed around the table and while Niall was in the middle of talking to Zayn’s Dad about the Playoffs, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Not wanting to be rude he waited for a long lull in the conversation before taking out his phone and reading the message.

_I wanted to add something in my toast about you two making sure to have sexy wedding night shenanigans. But I ran it by Harry and Liam a few minutes ago and they said it was ‘inappropriate’. Kill-joys._

Niall felt his face heat up again as he imagined for a moment just how very sexy the wedding night shenanigans - or rather, honeymoon night shenanigans in Bali - were going to be. The thing is, he kind of really needed to fuck his soon-to-be husband. Really bad. Two weeks into their engagement Niall had excitedly come up with a (terrible) idea: the two of them should stop having sex up until the wedding so that their honeymoon night would feel even more thrilling and special. Kinda like the first time all over again. Now, he was really glad that the time was almost up because he was so horny lately that he felt like if Zayn looked at him in a certain way he'd come on the spot.

 _Jesus Christ_ , he couldn’t be thinking about this in present company. There was Zayn’s Dad for fucks sake, smiling at him in that quiet way of his. Niall smiled back and he hoped to God his smile didn’t look weird at all.

Taking a deep breath and then a long sip of champagne, he managed to pull it together... What did the trick was reminding himself that horniness aside, he was about to marry the love of his life in less than 24 hours. The kind of big love that people wrote books about and spent their whole lives looking for. And Niall had it. And he was so grateful because how many people could say they truly had it, with all honesty? He knew how lucky they were and how lucky he was that he’d been brave enough to give it all another chance.

It was pretty scary to think about what things might be like if he hadn't gotten onto that plane to Paris. Maybe they would've found their way back together eventually, but maybe not. Niall didn’t like to think about it. Instead he liked to think about how things were better between them this time around. They still had love on their side like before but now they had maturity and appreciation too.

Sometimes Niall would lay in bed in the mornings just before he had to get ready for work, looking over at Zayn who more often than not was still fast asleep. And Niall would still not quite believe that this great life was his. Things were much better than good.

The relationship took constant effort, talking things through; but what mattered to Niall at the end of everything was that Zayn knew him inside out, faults and all, and he still made Niall feel pretty certain that he was the most loved person in the world. Zayn always insisted that  _he_  was the lucky bastard, not Niall. The truth was that they were both lucky.

'Buckets of happiness, immense hope for the future' was an accurate description of what Niall felt when he thought about his life. Everything they'd been through had led them to where they were right now and their relationship was stronger for it. And now here they were...  _Holy fuck_... Like it did sometimes, it suddenly hit him in the middle of lifting a forkful of catered pasta to his mouth. It hit him all over again what they were about to do. With unfiltered glee, he turned to Zayn, eyes big and awed, and exclaimed, “We're getting married tomorrow.."

And Zayn nodded and said warmly, “Yeah. I’m about to tie you down for life, Horan. Ha. You're stuck with me for life." Obviously eavesdropping, Trisha Malik fondly shook her head and Mrs Horan beamed at Zayn, delighted. 

Buckets of happiness, immense hope.

 


End file.
